Gangland
by Bloody Fox
Summary: Harry was exactly what Petunia and Vernon had said, a criminal. Vastly AU. M for language. Crack-ish
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N: **This was in no way intended as a serious fanfition. It's not quite 'crack' though, either._

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter and others are in no way my property. I make no claim to them, and I make no monetary gain off of this fiction._

_**Gangland**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

Petunia and Vernon Dursley never wanted anything to do with the boy left on their doorstep that October night. The pair of them had their own to look out for, and they didn't need the extra mouth to feed, let alone a freak one like Lily and her husband had been. Nevertheless, they fed him, clothed him, put a roof over his head, and when he was old enough (_five or six – Harry still couldn't remember_) they told him to stay away from the house until after ten at night when most were settling in to beds. He wasn't to be seen or heard from, even at school. He was not to bring attention to them and, especially, himself.

It didn't take much for him to fall into the wrong crowd. First it was an older boy that showed up every so often, offering a few pounds to run this box or that envelope somewhere. Then there were more people, more packages, more errands – and he was quickly adopted by the group. His new family. He didn't like the drugs, the loss of control not something he could tolerate, but he could sell them well enough. Selling a kilo all by himself had been a birthday present from the group. They'd been so proud.

Arson, burglary, extortion, robbery, assault, larceny, grand theft auto, breaking and entering. He was typical of his upbringing. His guardians could care less, opportunity, nothing better to do, and a taste for mayhem. His family had called him _perfect_ when they finally, and officially inducted him into their circle. He belonged to them, and they do him. They'd die for each other and avenge any fallen comrade. It was brilliant to have anyone care for him enough that they'd kill for him.

..

Harry sneered at the man as he passed him. Some worthless little nark who thought he could offer him a 'better life' and help him be a 'good person'. If he'd just talk to them, that was. It was the third time this week that the damn bobbies had pulled him in off the street. He hadn't even been _doing_ anything those time – not even loitering. He had, of course, said nothing. He wasn't a snitch, and he knew what happened to those who were. An example had been made out of one of the guys who thought to give information to the police.

He'd decided that day that dismemberment was not a way he wanted to go.

He stepped out onto the street, throwing one last glare over his shoulder.

"H.J.!"

Harry whipped his head around to the other who called his name, quickly relaxing when he recognized him.

"Rex." He nodded.

"C'mon, boss has a surprise for ya!" He grinned, and when Harry's face abruptly paled and the younger stepped back, he continued on. "Ah! No! Not that kind! A step up! Gonna be running with the big dogs now!"

"Why's that?"

Rex's face immediately shuttered. "Gecko got offed last night while you were in the hold."

"Shit." Harry breathed. "They want me in his place."

Rex grinned again. "Not right off, but if you do a good job... You know Gecko liked you."

Gecko had been someone Harry had instantly taken to. He was a role model for a good number of the younger group members, but Harry was the only one he'd take with him on jobs, if only to be a lookout in the car. And now someone had killed him.

"The initiation?"

"Tonight. After that, we're going out riding."

Harry nodded with all the seriousness the situation required. Gecko, and several others, were a step above the drug-dealers and the message carriers, and those who ran the small gambling shacks or whore houses. He killed people for his money. Not a professional, like many in the gang had thought, but he did well enough that he was never charged with murder. Harry swore that he would be better, and that he'd do in the bastards that killed Gecko.

..

"Who?"

"Him."

A man was pointed out. He was standing on the street corner, leaning up against the sign. Harry could tell just by looking at him that he was a hustler. He nodded.

"Here."

Something heavy was pressed into his hands, and he knew exactly what it was.

"Alright." He nodded again and walked over.

..

Ten. Ten Years old, and he'd been a killer for a little over three months. Four more murders stained his hands on top of the single performed on his initiation night. Ten, and he slept soundly through the night, without nightmares or paranoia. In the times he was alone (which was almost never) he almost asked why his mind was so quiet, but he knew that he didn't want, and would like, the answer to that particular question. Best to let sleeping dogs lie, he knew.

He raised his gun, pointing it straight into the face of a man he only knew by name. Two nights ago, this man – a man who looked so ordinary – had killed Rex. He'd been walking his baby sister home from her first day of school when this thing had drove by, swinging an assault rifle out the window and unloading on everyone in the vicinity. Rex, his sister, and two others would never grow old. Harry pulled on the trigger.

He slept soundly that night, too.

..

Harry crumpled the parchment in his hand and binned it. What a load of rubbish. He twisted his coat, letting it hang loose. The gun at the small of his back was a little to big to be worn that way without being seen, usually. The coat only helped a little. Well enough, though, he supposed. He hadn't been caught yet. He moved off that street quickly however, nervousness and adrenaline making his hands twitch and his eyes dart around suspiciously.

Even if the letter had been fake, whoever wrote it still had his address on it. His _safe house_ address on it. The house that no one was supposed to fucking know about, besides the recently deceased Rex, that is. He'd kill the little pillock that was obviously thinking this was some big laugh. Maybe torch his house while he was at it. And if it was that cop _again,_ he'd do worse than put a bullet in his head.

..

He ignored the letters as much as he was able to, but a person showing up on his doorstep wasn't something to abide. Well, not _his_ doorstep, per se, more like Petunia's, though he doubted the distinction was necessary. The woman before him wasn't welcome to either of them.

"Mr. Potter?"

His eyes narrowed at her. Scottish, formal, and likely strict. "What do you want with him?"

She frowned. "What I want is to take _you_ to get your school supplies and introduce you to our world."

He frowned now. Knew him then, did she? Then she should see this coming.

"Not interested in your religion, lady. Got my own." And he slammed the door in her face.

..

Next it was some sleazy looking guy standing on the doorstep. He almost thought the man was an addict at first with that hair and skin, but with instinct sounding a warning in his head, he knew better. He answered the door with a gun in his hand, pointed at the man's chest at a level not visible by peeping neighbors.

"I suggest you move off, mate, before I poke you full of holes, yeah?"

The man blinked down at him incredulously. Whether it was the fact that he just threatened the man, or that he was a ten-year-old with a gun, Harry didn't care. He just didn't like the look of this one. He felt like all sorts of bad.

"I'm not afraid of your muggle toys, Potter, now come along quietly."

" Toys?" The sound of the bullet was muffled by the silencer attached to the barrel. "Toy _that_, ya bitch."

The fucker wouldn't die from the gut wound – unless he didn't get help, and even if he did die... The thought trailed off as the man disappeared with a crack. Now wasn't that a damn useful trick? He turned and closed the door behind him.

..

"Mr. Potter?"

The voice in his supposedly secure room had him reaching for his gun before he could even think about it. The gun, however, was quickly pulled from his grasp by an invisible force where it landed in the old man's hands. Harry glared at it and then the person who dared invade his space.

"What d'ya want?" He asked, edging backwards. "And how the hell did you get in here?"

No one had been able to unlock his door before. Even that stupid bastard Vernon hadn't been able to break the damn thing down.

"I'm here to offer you a place at our school, where the magically gifted learn about and train their abilities."

"It's like I told that old bint, I got a religion of my own – don't need another." His hand tried the doorknob behind his back only to find that it wouldn't turn.

"Haven't you ever done something you can't explain?"

"Don't know what you're talking about, and I don't want to."

"Nothing when you were upset, angry perhaps?"

"Ain't done no freak shit, ya crazy old man."

"Magic, Mr. Potter. It's magic."

"No such thing, and there's no way I'm going with you."

"Ah," The old man smiled. "You don't have a choice I'm afraid. You've got a twenty minutes to pack up your belongings, and then I'll be taking you off to Diagon Alley."

Harry thought quickly. He didn't need anything in this room except the weapons. Twenty minutes was more than enough time to gather them up and take off. He looked the old man up and down. No way that the other could catch him. He'd be in the streets and gone before the wanker could blink.

"Alright."

He made a good show of ambling around the room, pulling out and piling up a few things, while a deft hand slid others onto his person. He glanced at the rope coiled up on the window sill. Emergency use only. He almost snorted at the thought. It really had been more of a joke, and he never thought that he would have to use it. Still... He didn't glance back as he picked up the rope and jumped through the window.

He'd barely landed before he started running, immediately heading off towards the thick hedges across the street. He'd almost made it when that old man appeared in front of him.

"Bloody fuckin' hell!" His feet slid out from beneath him as he tried to turn and he landed flat on his back. "How did you do that?"

"Magic."

"I'll learn that?" He asked in disbelief.

"And so much more."

Harry could see the potential.

..

"Stupid ass dresses and stupid ass pointy hats." Harry muttered, then continued on in a high, feminine voice, "Oh I know, lets wave around sticks and fly on brooms. The muggles will never figure us out... Bunch of bloody morons."

He snorted, loudly, drawing the attention of a good number of the patrons in the book store. All of whom quickly looked away when he shot them a menacing look. He instantly felt a little better after that. His mood quickly plummeted again, however, when another male wizard passed in front of him.

"Don't care what that old prick said, I ain't wearin' no dress."

He continued his near silent rant, sneering and snarling at anyone that came to close to his personal space.

..

"Hm... difficult, difficult."

_It's a fucking talking hat,_ he thought incredulously. Why would anyone want a hat that _talked_. As far as he could tell, just by the damn thing's singing, talking hats could get annoying really, really quickly. And how the hell was this even a practical thing to do in the first place? That mockingly feminine voice came back, "yes, lets take all the little kiddies and divide them up. It'll be like teams! We can even place bets on who will come out on top!"

"Where to put you... Plenty of courage, a thirst to prove yourself, and not a bad mind either..."

"Pick a damn house already!"

He could actually _feel_ the thing scowl at him.

"I'll have you know that this is the most important moment of your life, it would do you well not to rush me."

" Yeah? And here I thought that time I, you know_, didn't die_ was the most important moment." _You ass-cap,_ he tacked on mentally.

"I heard that you obnoxious little brat!"

"_Brat_ the best you can do, you worn out, frayed, dishcloth?"

"You're a tiny, pathetic shit and a poor excuse for what didn't slide down your mother's leg after that dog was done with her."

Huh, him and his parentage all in one. Not bad for a used up pair of whore's underwear.

"That's it, hope you suffer, you pretentious little twat. HUFFLEPUFF!"

..

He stared up at the seventh year prefect as the girl lectured about unity, loyalty, and togetherness. Harry felt vaguely nauseous. The ideas were far out of reach in and of themselves, but these weren't his family. These were sniveling, posh brat who didn't know the first thing about the game and the rules of it. Well, he supposed that he could teach them.

Suddenly, all eyes were turned to him. He gave them all a very not-nice smile and enjoyed the way all of them flinched. Most would be fast learners, he suspected. The arrogant, vain, and proud had mostly been sorted into the other houses, leaving him with an easy reach on the susceptible. They would never be like him, but he bet that a good number could be useful. Especially the muggle-born who had outside contacts, and the pure-bloods with family in high places.

..

At first, potions had sounded vaguely interesting. Poisons were the first thing that had jumped to mind and, while Harry was never so subtle as poisons would be, knowing them could prove useful. This was all before he found out that that pansy he had shot on Petunia's front porch was the teach, of course. Having been the one to shoot him, Harry waltzed into class, a smug, twisted smile on his face. He'd thought it would be an easy class with a cowed professor. Role call changed his mind.

"Harry Potter. Our new – _celebrity."_

Greasy-haired bastard was looking to get shot again, wasn't he? Harry turned away, obviously ignoring the man as he went off on a spiel about potions and idiots. It was all quite rehearsed and over dramatic, he mused to himself.

"Potter!" Snape snapped at him suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry paused only a beat. "Fuck all if I know."

"Ten points for language, Potter." Snape snarled. "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me bezoar?"

Harry lifted his lip in a silent sneer. Bastard wanted to single him out, make him look stupid and humiliate him, did he? Well, Harry didn't have a gun on him, so he couldn't shoot him again (_like the man was clearly begging for,)_ he had to go a different route. Words, to be perfectly honest, weren't his strong suit, but he thought he did well enough.

"How's the stomach professor, all healed up?" The man flinched so minutely that if Harry hadn't been watching for it, he would have missed it.

"Ten points. Now answer the question."

"Any lingering dizziness, I hear blood-poisoning is quite common in such injuries. The intestines are often pierced, spilling bacteria into the body causing painful, and slow, death." He paused. "As for your question... well, I've no idea. That's what you're hear for, ain't it?"

"Another ten points, and detention, Potter. This class is not for fictitious tales or your cheek."

Oh yeah, he was getting shot again. A couple times. Maybe, Harry debated, he would cripple him while he was at it. Not a lot... just a leg or something. Cripple him just a little bit. Enough so that he could still walk, just with a permanent limp. He looked up into Snape's sneering visage and smile unpleasantly.

"I'll see you for my detention then, Sir." He said the address mockingly and with sickeningly false remorse.

..

"I challenge you to a duel, tonight at midnight. In the trophy room!"

"You're fucking retarded ain't ya, you inbred pillock? Who fuckin _duels_ anymore?" He pulled out his gun, which he started keeping on his person at all times, and shot the, obviously bleached blond, boy in the foot.

"Welcome to the twentieth century, dumbass."

And he walked away.

..

Harry peered around the corner slowly. Freaky shit always happened around him on Halloween. Bad, freaky shit. Last year he was in the pen over night. All well and fine, except the door slid open all on its own. Naturally, being the curious bloke he was, he stepped out and had a look around. Fucking got tazed. Twice. Once in the ass. He swore to hide away on Halloween from then on.

This school, for all it's hiding places, was full of freaky shit all on it's own. Most of it pointy and sharp, and while he like pointy, sharp things, he didn't like it when he was stabbed with them... which he was almost positive would happen. Those suits of armor were looking ominous. He eyed them warily as he passed them on the way to the Great Hall. He couldn't hide, so he might as well have a run around on a full stomach.

The peacefulness didn't last long, and Harry hadn't expected it to.

"Troll – in the dungeons – thought you ought to know." That stuttering professor, Quittle or something, collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.

After a quick and swiftly put down uproar, all of the students were lead to their respective common rooms and dorms. Only Harry noticed the red-head and other gryffindor join his house as they headed off. He fell back to them.

"What're you doin?"

The larger boy of the two, attempted to stutter something, but the red-head cut him off. "Nothin, you need to worry about Puffer."

Harry gave a feral smile. "Oh really?"

"Her – Hermione doesn't know about the troll. Ron didn't want to tell her alone, and - "

"Neville!" Ron shouted, and was ignored by the both of them.

"He drug you along." Harry snorted. "Well, alright, lets go fetch the bint. Could use some adventure. This place is dead boring compared to... " He trailed off seeing their surprised looks. "What?"

"You aren't supposed to _like_ adventure. You're a _hufflepuff."_

Harry shrugged. "Where's she at?"

"Bathroom."

The three of them arrived just in time to see the troll meander into the bathroom, a large club draggin on the stone floor behind it. A manic smile touched Harry's lips, and he pulled out his gun.

"Feeling a little trigger happy today, might want to stay back."

The two others watched as Harry chuckled and slid into the bathroom silently.

"What's that mean?" Neville asked.

"Don't know." Ron shook his head.

Whatever Neville might've said next was cut off by a girl's scream, several cracks of sound, and Harry's cackling.

Harry marched out of the bathroom, just as the teachers came running around the corner, that same smile on his face.

"A-fuckin-mazing." He breathed. "Have to do that again... soon."

Then he turned and looked straight at Snape who had just arrived. "Got some free time, sir?"

..

"Don't know what the hell is wrong with people these days." He muttered, then corrected himself. "Wizards. Don't know what's wrong with _wizards._"

He watched from the stands as metal balls zoomed around targeting people on flying brooms.

"Can't tell if it's the inbreeding or the magic... both?"

And then one of those metal balls was aiming straight for his head.

"Oh fucking shit!" He sacrificed a neighboring first year and dove under the bench, starting to crawl along underneath it, ignoring the screams.

The ball burst through a portion just behind him and bounced back up into the air before plummeting towards him again. He pulled his solution to all things that got in his way, his gun, and moved a little faster. Muttering the whole while on 'what a bright idea deadly games were' and how 'fucking protective measures were fucking brilliant, especially when they failed'.

He rolled from beneath the bench onto his back and took aim at the ball that was accelerating towards him again. Ain't no way a fucking ball was going to do him in. It would be completely _not_ badass! Before he could fire, the ball exploded into a bunch of little pieces, raining a shower of debris on him. He looked over.

He didn't care, there wasn't anyway he was going to owe that old bastard a favor. This just made them even for that time Harry didn't shoot him when the old man showed up in his room.

..

Harry slapped his hand over his eyes and then peeked through his fingers. Nope, still there. Slowly, he turned and looked over his shoulder. Not there, at least. He looked at the mirror again. His father gave a jaunty little wave and a smile. His mother slapped his father on the arm and rolled her eyes even as she smiled at him. Harry blinked. Hard. Yeah, this was real. He nodded, turned on his heal.

As if magic hadn't been creepy enough all on its own. Now it was resurrecting dead people. Dead people who smiled and waved and looked entirely to cheerful to be meeting their (nowhere near law abiding) son. He was just tired. Yeah, not enough sleep. He was hallucinating. Definitely. He looked over his shoulder. Now his father had a grenade-launcher in hand and was offering it to his reflection.

"Best present _ever!_" He said and whipped fully around in time to watch reflection-Harry sling it on his shoulder and completely obliterate something in the distance.

..

"Uh uh! No way! Fuck that, forget it! I ain't going in there!"

"Now, 'arry." Hargrid said sternly.

"Hey, you wanna be a bunch of stupid pikers trotting around in the fuckin woods at night, go right ahead, but I ain't doin it! Fuck _no_." Harry folded his arms over his chest and planted his feet. Unfortunatly, he forgot the Hagrid was three times his size, could pick him up easily, and drag him into the forest.

It wasn't even his _fault_. He hadn't done anything. Well, almost nothing. He could swear he knew nothing about the bloody dragon, or the smuggling operation... speaking of which, he would have to talk to Weasley about that – there were better things to smuggle... but anyway, he had nothing to do with that! The seventh year bitch ratted on him when he had made it back to the common room after escaping McGonagall, Snape, and Filch.

_And what kind of shit luck was that anyway?_

"Oh, damn it all." He sighed as Hagrid divided them up.

Malfoy, the dog, and him trailed off to a different section of forest, away from the groundskeeper and the meager protection of the cross bow. Cause that was a bleeding great idea. Second only to looking for something that was killing fuckin unicorns. Pure genius is what this was.

He turned to Malfoy, and said, in an utterly flat tone, "You'd think with the inherent stupidity of your race, you would have all died out by now."

And then he walked on, leaving the boy sputtering at the insult. They did, of couse, find the unicorn in an apparently empty clearing.

"Is it dead?"

"No Malfoy. It's sleeping. Doesn't it look so comfortable. Ignore the blood all over the ground... I'm sure it's nothing to worry about." Harry spat. "Of course its dead, moron!"

"You better watch it, Potter, you don't have any fans or teachers to save you this time!"

"Do you _want_ to get shot again?" Harry reached for the gun.

Malfoy shook his head and backed away. A slithering sound drew their attention to the opposite side of the clearing. Before it even came into the open, Malfoy screamed and bolted into the woods.

Harry watched him go. "Screams like a little bitch, he does." Then he turned back to the thing, his hand automatically going to his scar that suddenly burst in pain.

"The fuck are you?" He hissed the question, his legs suddenly feeling weak.

It didn't have time to answer when a horse-man-thing jumped over Harry's head and chased it off. He managed to refrain from making a rude comment as the thing probably just saved his life.

..

"Harry," Dumbledore sighed. "Give it here."

He held his hand out. Harry sunk back in his chair and shook his head.

"Harry, you're lucky you haven't been expelled as it is, give it here."

"Piss off, it ain't happening."

Dumbledore smacked his hand on his desk. "You can't just go around shooting the people you don't like!"

"If I was doin' that, there would be a lot more people in to see that dragon lady!"

Dumbledore had to stop himself from smiling at the name for the school nurse. Dragon lady, indeed. Still, " You were told not to bring it here in any case. As it it, I've let it go for almost the whole year. Now, hand it over."

"Might as well let me keep it. Who knows what else I'll use if I don't have it. As it is, the dragon lady's getting pretty good at treating bullet wounds."

"Now."

Harry gave a put upon sigh and slid his gun across the table. "I hope you know I expect that back before the end of the school year... and it goes to me, not to those fuck-off relatives of mine."

Dumbledore gave a slow, measured, and very unsure nod of agreement.

"Can I go now?"

"Very well."

"Good, got a few shivs to make."

It was only a short moment after Harry was gone that Dumbledore wondered what, exactly, a shiv was.

"Oh dear, I suppose I should warn Poppy."

..

"You needed me for _this_?" He asked the girl incredulously.

"Well..." She trailed off with a shrug.

"I thought I _traumatized _you or some such rot. You can fuckin' bet that I'm _going_ to after you drug me from my nap for _this._" Harry sneered at the poem, the fire, and the grouping of potions.

"You were the only one I could think of to help me..." She said weakly.

"Besides that ass Weasley you mean?"

She gave another shrug. It wasn't like she had expected the 'protections' to be so easily passed. Privately, she thought Harry made them _look_ easy.

"Fuckin fine. Give the bloody potion here. I'll go save the bloody rock from that greasy bitch... and you owe me for this..."

"Owe you what?" She asked warily.

"Don't know. I'll think of something later."

She nodded slowly and handed him the potion. He gulped it down and walked confidently into the fire (_another brilliant idea_).

"Hey, it's quill!"

"Quirrell!" The man snarled at him.

"Sorry quizimell."

Quirrell grit his teeth and fired a spell at the boy, leaving him bound in ropes and laying on the floor.

"Oi, you stuttering twat, let me up before I cut your bullocks off!"

"Silence." He hissed and turned back to the mirror (_of awesome presents ~ Harry added_). "I see the Stone... I'm presenting it to my master... but where is it. I don't understand... is the Stone _inside_ the mirror? Should I break it?"

Quirrell paced angrily. "What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master?"

"Use the boy... use the boy..."

_I hope to fuckin' hell that that voice wasn't just in my head_, Harry prayed.

"_Yes – Potter – come here." Quirrell turned toward him, vanished the ropes, and pulled Harry in front of the mirror. "Tell me what you see."_

His reflection smiled and help up the shiny rock that everyone and their mother seemed to be looking for, and slid it in his pocket. Harry blinked. _Lie. Lie your ass off._

"I see myself as the kingpin of London with hundreds at my beck and call."

"Get out of the way." Quirrell snarled.

"He lies... he lies."

"Tell me the truth! What did you just see?"

"Let me speak to him... face-to-face..."

"Master, you are not strong enough!"

"I have strength enough... for this..."

Then Quirrell turned and begain unwrapping his turban, slowly revealing a face stuck to the back of his head.

"Damn, you're seven shades of fuckin ugly!"

The face hissed at him. "Give me the stone."

"Piss off. Got it first didn't I? It belongs to me!"

"Give it here and I might allow you to live."

"I said to _piss off_."

"Kill him!"

Harry twisted beyond his reach, cursing that old man for taking his gun. This wouldn't have been a problem if he had it. A bullet or two... or twelve, and problem-

Quirrell grabbed him, only to shriek in pain. Harry wasn't sure if it was from whatever made his hands blacken and wither or if it was the shiv in his side, and he didn't care. He stuck him again. Quirrell made a odd half scream, half sob. Harry grabbed the man's face and kept jabbing him in the side as they both tumbled to the floor. He didn't know when he passed out.

..

Harry woke in the dragon lady's territory.

"Well, Harry, you've had an interesting night, so I hear."

"It was like being home." He gave a whimsical smile that seemed to concern the old man more than the fact that he had killed one of the professors.

"Ah, yes, well..." He cleared his throat.

"That's right!" Harry said suddenly and dug into his pocket. "Here's your stupid rock. Don't know what's so great about it. It's not even that pretty."

"You don't know – that is, why did you go after the Stone?" Dumbledore asked.

"That Granger girl said she needed my help. So I went and now she owes me a favor." Harry shrugged.

"Miss Granger, hm..." The Headmaster trailed off. "All's well that ends well, I suppose." He shook his head.

..

Harry stood at the large entrance doors, his arms folded, and scowling heavily.

"Harry? Shouldn't you be on the train, dear boy?"

"Wanted my gun, you old codger." Harry said sullenly.

"I see. Well, as promised. Here." And Dumbledore handed it off hesitantly.

"See you next year. Tirrah!" And then he disappeared with a pop.

Dumbledore went white and put a hand to his chest. Then he resolutely turned away. "I didn't see a thing."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Gangland Year 2**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

"Sent you back, did they? Suppose you got kicked out of another school?" Petunia asked disdainfully as she answered the door.

"Nope!" He smiled at her, ducking under her arm and around her body. "Even got to shoot a couple of people."

"Liars still don't get fed here, boy. Now, drop your freak stuff and get out. Same rules as before."

"Fine, gotta see some of my mates anyway." He said, letting the trunk fall with a heavy thunk as he did an about-face and strutted out the front door.

"Who was that, Pet?" Vernon ask as he came into the room.

"Just that delinquent again. Hopefully he'll get arrested this time around."

..

He did. Get arrested that was. The boys had been a bit irritated with him for disappearing, and though they understood, they still felt that he had to be punished for it. So they set him up with a minor violation that landed him in jail. His plans, naturally, had gone down the drain with his confinement. He did receive a visitor, however.

"Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts!"

He stumbled backwards and fell over the toilet when the thing appeared in his cell.

"What the fuck?"

"Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts!" It cried again.

"Damn well understood the first time! How the fuck did you get in here?"

"Elves are being able to pop anywhere!"

Harry glanced out the front of his cell. Why the hell was it still yelling? He was going to end up tazed again. He didn't _like_ being tazed!

"Get your bug-eyed ass out of here before one of them bobbies comes in."

"Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts!"

"Daft, ain't ya? I said to get the bloody hell out of here, else I'm gonna shank ya."

"You's is doing nothing to Dobby that Dobby hasn't had done before." It seemed to finally calm down with his threat, or at least calm enough that it was no longer shouting.

"Wanna make a bet about that?" He asked with a smile.

..

"I said I was sorry, you damned prick, what else do you want?" Harry asked gruffly and not a little petulantly.

"I want you to quit dicking around."

"And I already told _you _that goin' to that fuckin freak shit school wasn't my idea!"

"Take that tone with me and I'll cut your balls off boy."

Harry grinned. "You know you love me 'cause I take that tone. Makes you feel dirty."

" Pushing it, H.J." He grumbled with a smirk.. "Alright. I'll let you off to go to... _school_, but I expect you to cover the losses in the time you're here."

"You went 'round the bend! I can't cover ten months work in the time I'm here!"

"I'm not above shooting you to make a point."

Harry threw up his hands in surrender. "No need to get violent boss-guy."

..

Harry went towards platform 9 ¾ with a happily smug look. In jail, he might have been, but he damn well got to stab someone... something, he corrected. The thing fucking squealed too before it disappeared. He got some work done, too. It was a far more enjoyable summer than he had anticipated. He headed straight towards the false brick wall and smacked right into it.

"Oh, fuck all kinds of duck." He muttered.

..

Harry was still at the station long after the train had gone. He looked up when a familiar crack sounded in the Kings Cross station. He couldn't help but sigh in exasperation when tall, dark, and creepy came towards him. His hand wrapped automatically around his gun. Hogwarts or no, if the bastard was going to start something, he was going to finish it.

"Mr. Potter," Snape said with such a scathing tone that Harry could feel the weight of it even from seven meters away.

Harry didn't give Snape a chance to continue. He pulled out his gun, aimed, and shot. He crossed the distance between them and kicked the wand from Snape's hand, sending the piece of wood skittering across the platform.

"It's called a brain, ya manky bastard, fuckin' get one." He sneered and walked away. Whose bright idea was it to send him anyway?

..

"Ah, Harry. I was worried when Professor Snape appeared without you." Dumbledore said as he walked through the entrance hall.

"Er... yeah. What'dya want?"

Dumbledore held out his hand expectantly.

"Fuck no! Don't you remember what happened last year? You know, the stuttering bitch with ugly out the back of his head?"

"This isn't negotiable." He stated sternly.

"What if I only use it in self-defense? It could be a promise, yeah?"

Dumbledore contemplated for a moment. Harry did have a point... and if it was only in self-defense...

"I suppose..." Everyone deserved another chance after all, perhaps this would teach Harry some responsibility.

Harry blinked at him incredulously for a moment. That worked? Holy fuck, that worked! Damn, he was good. Harry turned away to head off to the dorms.

"And Harry?" He turned back to face Dumbledore. "I must ask you to stop assaulting Professor Snape. I do believe he's developing a nervous tick."

"No promises, old man."

..

Harry couldn't help but gape. Full on, jaw-hanging, slack faced, gaping. There wasn't any fuckin' way it was true. It was colorful. It was frilly. It fucking _sparkled_. And it happened to be their new defense professor.

"That ponce is our professor?" He must have said it loudly because everyone in the room turned towards him.

"Is that Harry Potter I see?"

"No, I'm a fuckin' unicorn." Was the bland reply.

"Oh Harry, there isn't any reason to use that kind of language to gain attention for yourself. I understand that it's only natural to be intimidated by my mere presence, but there's no need to be jealous of me." He smiled and sparkled again.

Harry put his hand on his gun. Screw self-defense, he was doing this for the good a mankind. Or, at least he was - until the Hufflepuff girls saw what he was doing and mobbed him.

..

"Granger, ya bint!"

"That isn't an appropriate way to greet someone!" She snarled at him with a red face.

"Ta, never been taught good manners, you know."

She gave an exasperated sigh and nodded. "What did you want?"

"Bout that favor ya owe... I'm callin' it in."

She gave him a wary look.

"You're gonna set up my network."

"Network? For what?"

He smiled.

..

Detention. Not only a time consuming waste on it's own, but he also had to spend it with that uppity glittering bastard.

"Bloody postcards." He muttered.

"Ah, ah. Less talking more writing." Lockhart chided.

Harry looked up and with a clam, serious face said, "No one will find your body."

Lockhart's laugh had an edge of hysteria as he paled and scooted away just a little. "You – you shouldn't joke like that." He laughed again. "Some one may take you seriously, Harry."

"Forest is big enough, you know. Plenty of scavengers to eat -"

"I think that's all for tonight!" Lockhart stood up. "Yes, yes. Return to your dorm."

..

"_So hungry..."_

Harry glanced around to find no one.

"_Kill."_

"Uh... anyone else fuckin' hear that?"

The sound (_sound because Harry wasn't admitting any thing about hearing a voice, damn it) _faded away, trailing down the hall continuing to murmur about murder and blood. On a second thought, maybe he was hearing... No, he so, definitely wasn't crazy. He stuffed his hands in his pocket, started whistling a tune, and walked away quickly.

..

"Damn. I mean, I knew you red 'n' gold nancies had some balls, but _damn!_" Harry said, looking over Ron and Hermione's shoulders to look at the message written on the wall.

"We didn't do it! Didn't you even read it?" Ron sputtered out as he turned to face Harry.

Harry shrugged. "Well, as stupid as you all are, I didn't expect you to sign _your_ name to the fuckin' thing."

"I'm not stupid!"

"Your mummy tells you that, doesn't she?"

"Er... well..."

"You'll be next, mudbloods!"

" Malfoy." Harry greeted. "You, on the other hand, _are_ stupid enough to sign your name." He nodded his head towards the blood. "Your work?"

..

"I ain't goin'." A pout that completely fit his age plastered itself on Harry's face.

"You need to get out more, mate."

"You do remember the last time a went out to watch, don't you? Crazy ass metal ball bent on homicide? Ring any bells here? Hopefully big, warning ones?"

"What are the chances of that happening again?"

"Considering that its a fuckin' magical sport, very likely." He said blandly.

"Make you a deal then. If it happens again, you get..." Justin trailed off in thought.

"I get to shank you."

"Sure. Wait! What?" Justin twisted around towards Harry who was already across the common room. "Harry? Harry, you're joking, right? Right? Harry!"

..

"Fuckin' freak shit. Fuckin' poncy teachers who don't know anything. Fuckin' stupid sport. Fuckin' - "

"That's quite enough, Mr. Potter."

"Told you to call me Harry, dragon lady."

Pomphery tried not to smile at the young man. "And I've told you not to call me 'dragon lady'." She flicked her wand at him. "You're progressing nicely, just a few more millimeters of bone to form. And that reminds me, please quit stabbing your peers."

"Shanking, dragon lady."

She made an exasperated noise. "Very well. Quit shanking the other students."

"If you can convince that old fart what's-his-face to let me shoot them, I'll go back to that."

She sighed and turned away. Really, there was no hope for the boy. It wasn't even as if he was overly violent so much as that he considered violence the end-all-be-all answer to every problem in the universe.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Flinch-Fletchy?"

..

"I gave you a chance, Harry." Dumbledore said sternly with his hand held out.

"It was fuckin' self-defense! I swear! Did you see that thing?"

"Severus has informed me of Mr. Malfoy's actions, and while they aren't something to condone, shooting the boy was not an option."

"What else was I supposed to do, huh?" Harry said, tucking the gun against his stomach.

"Most people would be inclined to shoot the snake, my boy."

"Ain't your boy, and I ain't most people either. 'Sides, how the hell am I supposed to know how all this freak shit works? Only been here for a year. Maybe magic snakes are like... immune to normal things like bullets or whatever."

"I can assure you that they normally are not."

"And now I know better." Harry nodded resolutely, sitting up straight. "So, can I keep it?"

..

Harry looked from the eerily still forms of the ghost and Justin, to the approaching teachers, and back again. Yeah, total 'oh, shit' moment. Damn it all, and he just saw that old man the other day too. He didn't say a word as he was drug over to the headmaster's office and left there, only mused on his crap luck and all that came with it. Of course, once he was in the office, alone, he couldn't help but poke around a bit.

"Old guy's got a bunch a weird shiny shit in here." He muttered and poked one of the whirling things.

An awkward sounding chirp drew him to the other side of the room. It was old looking, with red and gold feathers and a long tail. It sagged on it's perch, and Harry would swear that it was about to keel over at any moment. This, however, didn't stop his first thought.

"Magic turkey!"

The thing gave an indignant squawk and burst into flames. He watched in morbid fascination until all that was left was ashes. A throat clearing behind him had him whipping around with his hands raised in a clear 'unarmed' gesture to meet the old man's gaze.

"I didn't do it! Your fuckin' turkey went all extra crispy on its on!"

"Yes, phoenixes do that from time to time."

"I like arson as much as the next bloke, but even I know to keep spontaneously combustible things outside." Harry said with a flat voice. Well, he learned his lesson after the first time anyway.

"Alas, one can't tell a phoenix 'no'."

..

"Oh, that's bloody brilliant!" Harry managed to say between hysterical laughs.

Hermione scowled at him, far past the point of being embarrassed and closer to the side of enraged. Her cat ears folded back in her anger and she _hissed_ at him.

"Shut up."

Harry's laughter stopped for only a moment before his face turned red and he broke again. "Here kitty, kitty, kitty."

"Damn it, Harry! It's not funny."

"No. It's fuckin' hilarious!"

Hermione was remanded to pouting until Harry gained control of himself, though really, his self-control wasn't much either way.

"Aw, don't make that face. Does kitten want some cream?"

Hermione was back to scowling. She was going to bite the bastard... or turn him into a damn mouse.

..

"Your 'network' is done." She said blandly as she came up to him.

"Really? That was quick."

Hermione sighed. "You must be aware of my lack of popularity in general, but I did manage at least five people in Ravenclaw, seven in Gryffindor, and two others in Hufflepuff. Aparently, your house is scared of you."

"They're the smart ones." He said with a smile. "No one from the house of inbred?"

"Muggleborn." She pointed to herself.

"Forgot they had a problem with anyone whose family tree branches more than a flagpole."

That got him a smile. See, he had his nice moments. Few and far, but they were there.

"_Now_ can I know what this was for?"

"Smuggling."

"You – you can't... That's illegal!" She screeched loud enough that Harry peered around them to see if anyone had heard. The girl had a voice, to be sure.

"Hence the word 'smuggling'."

"You'll get expelled."

Harry nodded blithely and started walking, gesturing for her to follow.

"Wouldn't be the first time. They won't fuckin' know what's goin on though, anyway." He shrugged.

"And how's that?" She spat the questioned.

" Cuz magic makes you stupid or somethin'. I mean, waiving around pointy sticks, using owls for mail, and fuckin' _duelling._"

"You really need to let that go, Harry."

"I'll let it go when they damn well stop doing it. If any race needs annihilated, it's this one."

"_You_ are part of that race."

Harry nodded. "Proves my point doesn't it? Boss calls me a sociopathic little shit who, if I actually had any motivation, would be bent on world domination. Apparently that's frowned on in this society."

"It's frowned on in any society." She said scathingly. "And someday, we're going to sit down and have a talk about that 'sociopath' thing."

"Did I mention I found a magical talking book?"

"Books don't talk." She said, not to be diverted so easily.

"Okay, well, it doesn't 'talk' as much as write back."

The first time it happened, he thought he was hallucinating. After a few more sentences, he decided that it was like having a running commentary, or someone to give an opinion with out actually talking. Sorta like a shrink, except not because Harry didn't and wouldn't go, and he wasn't allowed on the premises of those practicing psychiatric medicine again after that... incident. So naturally, after deciding that the book was a shrink, he decided to see if it was as easy to traumatize as a person.

It wasn't, and now, on occasion, he found himself with sudden, clear, and a sometimes downright hostile aversion to boys with pet snakes of any sort. Shrink-diary had decidedly liked share time. Harry didn't.

"Wanna see it?"

Misery, and metal anguish, loved company.

..

"Oi! What the hell 're you doin?" Harry shouted.

The pudgy man and the blond turned to face him, Hagrid and auror escort doing the same.

"Harry Potter. Good to meet you! I'm minister Fudge, and we're taking this man over to Azkaban as punishment for all the petrifications."

Harry stared a long moment at the minister, turned to look at Hagrid, and back again. "I understood all of that except for the 'your all fuckin' stupid' part."

The blond sneered and Fudge's face turned an unattractive shade of puce.

"How dare you?"

"Ah, Harry, perhaps this is not the best time..."

"S'alright, 'arry."

Harry gave him the darkest look possible. "Hagrid, you may have bad taste in pets, but I doubt you'd let one that fuckin' dangerous just wander around."

"Harry's right!" Ron had everyone moving to look at him, wondering where, exactly, he'd come from.

"No matter, we need to be seen doing something."

"If ya really want to find wha's doing this, follow the spiders." Hagrid said as he was marched off the grounds.

..

"Follow the spiders... 'bout as brilliant as chasing things that kill fuckin' unicorns."

"Shouldn't we be quiet, Harry?" Ron whispered.

"Like it matters. Everything already knows we're here." Harry hissed and quickly went back into a tangent on spiders and the apparent stupidity of wizards in general. He didn't notice the spiders dropping from the canopy until it was too late. They carried Ron and him off the the heart of the forest until the finally reached a deep hollow that only set Harry off into another rant. It was quickly cut off by the approach of a spider even larger than the horse-sized ones.

"That's a big spider." Harry said with wide eyes.

Ron whimpered.

"Like, man-eating."

His response was a strangled sob.

"Shut up Ron. You _wanted_ to come when Hagrid mentioned it. 'It would be an adventure', you said."

"Are you friends of Hagrid?"

Harry blinked at it. "I should quit being surprised when things fuckin' talk. Snakes, hats, books, and now spiders. What's next, my shoes? Should I be expecting them to speak up any time soon?"

"Friends of Hagrid?" The spider asked again.

"N-no." Ron squeaked.

"We want to know 'monster' is in the castle."

"We do not speak its name."

"Bloody helpful, aren't you. There's talk of the Chamber of Secrets."

The thing clicked and took a small step forward. "They thought Hagrid opened this chamber before, that I came from it, but this was years and years ago. It was not I that comes from the Chamber."

"So its not you that's off causing mass panic and total mayhem up that way?"

"No."

"Great. We'll just be off then!"

"I think not. Not when you wandered so willingly to my nest."

"Aw fuck." Harry said as he looked at the spiders that had gathered. It was his shit luck, it had to be.

He drew his gun in one hand and his wand in the opposite. Becoming spider food was totally _not_ a bad-ass way to die. A flash of light and the roar of an engine drew all attention to the edge of the hollow where a car came barreling down the side.

"Is that a car?"

"Get in, Harry!" Ron dove into the driver's seat and Harry, reluctantly took passenger. He doubted that Ron could drive, and felt that it was very likely that they were going to crash into a tree and be sent flying through the windshield. Admittedly, at least that was better than spider food.

"Ron, _why_ is there a car in the forest?"

"It's my dad's. I... uh... may have taken it when the platform closed up on me and crashed it into the barn. It threw me out and drove off after that."

"Does it talk?" He asked and poked the dash with the tip of his shoe.

"Course not!" Ron scoffed.

"You may want to, you know, drive sometime soon." Harry pointed to the amassing spiders.

"Right."

Ron threw it in gear, and sent the car crashing though the under growth of the forest. Spiders jumped in front of the car, trying to block the path. Finally, after hitting a log and launching up and over a good number of their pursuers, they landed in the safe bounds of the castle. Slowly, they climbed out and watched the car drive off back into the forest.

"Just for the record, when a big ass spider asks if we're friends with Hagrid, you fucking say 'yes'!"

..

"Her skeleton will lie in the chamber forever... well, that's fuckin' stalker."

"Harry!"

"What?"

"That's insensitive! Think about what her family must be feeling!"

"Wouldn't know. Don't have a family."

Hermione coo-ed at him and pet his patronizingly.

"Harry! Harry, help me save my sister!"

"Why's he coming to you?" She whispered.

"He thinks we're friends." Harry muttered sullenly.

"And you allow that."

"Told him to fuck off in all the ways I can, but he just doesn't get it. Those gay-doors are retarded or something."

"Not only is that an inappropriate comment, but I resent the fact that you lumped me in with them... and they're called Gryffindors."

"See this," he pointed to his face. "This is my 'I don't give a flying fuck' face."

She sighed. "Are you going to help him?"

" Like I have a choice. Little bastard will follow me everywhere – and I mean _everywhere_ – if I don't."

"Better hurry then." She waved him on cheerfully.

..

Harry looked up at the boy that had appeared from the darkness of the chamber. He looked familiar...

Then he pointed dramatically. "You're the creepy bitch with the girly diary!" Short pause. "And I'm still scarred by your snake fetish!"

"It's not a diary! It's a journal." The boy snarled.

"It's fuckin' girly either way, and I noticed that you didn't deny the fetish accusation."

"I will kill you in a horribly slow manner."

"You and every other wack-job dark lord and defense professor. So now, where's this monster that everyone is crying about?"

"Want to see it, do you, then I can only oblige a person's last wish."

"Little high on yourself, creepy snake bitch."

Tom scowled at him and turned towards the statue, commanding it to speak to him. Harry was a little surprised that a stone covering rolled aside and the thing didn't actually talk – like he was growing to expect. Apparently Salazar Slythering also had a snake fetish because, really, what else does a snake sliding out of his mouth imply?

Lewd thoughts aside, the a fore mentioned snake was large. Very, very large. He didn't even need the Hermione voice in his head to tell him to turn and run. It was as he was running that the old man's bird passed over his head, dropping the talking hat on him, and set to attacking the snake. He turned to watch it gouge the things eyes out with a viciousness that only a few could appreciate.

"Alright talking hat," he put it on his head. "Let's see what you got."

It sprung to life. "Back again, you little piss stain? Hoping I'll change your house?" 

"Nope. Fine there, thanks. More concerned about the big ass snake." He said, watching the, now blind, serpent flail uselessly.

"It's a basilisk, you incompetent monkey."

"You gonna help or not, cause if not, I'm gonna use you to distract the damn thing."

"Fine. Here."

Harry was sent crashing to the floor as something heavy dropped from inside the hat. He pulled it out.

"It's a fuckin' sword."

"Aren't you clever. Now, get to work."

..

"The monster was this big ass snake thing – killed it of course, with a sword to boot – stabbed bitch boy's girly diary, and here we are."

"An interesting story, Harry."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "You callin' me a liar?"

There was a sudden silence in the room. Harry tapped the tip of the sword on the floor.

"Of course not." Dumbledore shook his head. "It's just a very interesting tale. You must agree."

"Suppose so." He said suspiciously. "Either way, you keep makin' me protect your shit and I'm gonna have to start charging you for it. Don't work for free."

"Maybe we'll talk about that another time. Right now, we have a visitor. Come in Mr. Malfoy."

"I had you removed from this post."

"Yes, well, I talked to those involved and they were under the impression that you would curse them and their families if they didn't comply."

"Not a very job threatening them if they roll over that quick on you." Harry stated casually.

Malfoy sneered at him.

"Keep your nose out of others business, Potter, lest you meet the same sticky end as your parents."

Harry got to his feet and rested the sword on his shoulder so that it drew the blond's attention.

"Resorting to threats of physical violence, how muggle, but I suppose that I shouldn't expect better of you, a muggle raised half-blood."

"I'm not going to threaten you, or even do anything." He shook his head and then spoke on with a small smile. "I don't know much about that diary thing, but I bet, it was important to that half-dead dark bastard." Harry leaned in and whispered. "Wonder what he'll do, and to whom, when he finds out that it was practically hand delivered to me. Bet he'll be pissed."

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Malfoy said, even as the blood drained from his face.

"I'm sure you don't." Harry nodded and watched as Malfoy spun on his heel and left.

..

"Harry, you're going to miss the train if you don't hurry." Hermione pleaded, but still managed to scowl, have her hands on her hips, and stamp her foot.

"I don't like trains. It's fuckin' boring."

"Then how do you plan to get back?"

He blinked at her. "Same was as I got here. What're you, an idiot?"

She frowned. "We had a talk about calling me stupid before."

He winced and rubbed his jaw. It wasn't tender or anything still, but he could remember the pain quite vividly. Bitch had an arm, that was for sure. If she wasn't such an authority whore he might even bring her over. As it was, she'd probably commit a crime and then throw herself at some bobbies feet begging forgiveness and selling out everyone she knew... and then start crying about _that._

"So we did." He nodded. "I'm gonna get out of here. Got some shit to take care of, you understand."

She was back to scowling, imagining, quite vividly, what kind of things he had to take care of.

Harry smiled. Hermione was still pissed off over the fact that his smuggling idea had went so well. Next year, it would be something a bit more illegal than a few wizard toys.

"Tirrah." He gave her a short salute and popped away, leaving her gaping in his wake.

"But – but you can't..." She was going to have to talk to him about breaking well known, well established facts.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Gangland : Year 3**_

.

.

He was at Number 4 Privet Drive. Why? Well, really, that was a good question. One he was asking himself over and over for the past three hours. He could have left. The door was right there, but listening to Marge, Vernon's drunk of a sister, disparage him, his criminal life, and his parents was semi-amusing. Not to mention he was feeling lazy and the door was just too far. Although... he did have a line for the amount of shit someone could shovel about his mother.

"You see it all the time with dogs, if there's something wrong with the bitch, there will be something wrong with the pup."

"You may want to shut up now, you dirty old drunk." He said coldly from the kitchen counter, leveling her with a flat, chilling look.

She gave him a smug look, as if she'd just discovered some great secret. She looked like she was going to speak again, and Harry walked around to stand in front of her, slouching so that he was looking directly into her eyes. He smiled at her, enjoying the way she flinched just a little.

"Might remember that I'm the scariest mother fucker here." And he jammed the knife from dinner deep into the table, just barely missing her hand. "See you next year, Marge darling."

..

Harry sighed, tucked his gun in the waistband of his pants, and hurried away. Lucky number seven. Well, not so lucky for the guy with his brains painting the wall, but hell, what can you do? Seriously though, what the hell was boss thinking? It wasn't like he was some supernatural... yeah... even so! A guy deserved a break now and again, and he just may not pick up the phone next time boss called just to make a point... and he'd also call right back to make sure the boss didn't get any nefarious ideas.

He made it to temporary home number four _(don't ask about the first three)_ to find two letters and an owl waiting for him. The first, from that creepy pissant stalker, Weasley, was binned straight off without a glance. He did take the time to read Hermione's though, only to find five paragraphs of her ranting about some magical 'rules' and 'impossibilities'. The bird really needed to lighten up. Another couple years and he'd happily show her how, too.

At least she finished with a 'happy birthday'. Anal re-tentative bitch, he thought fondly. He'd let her in on a scheme this year just for that.

..

The trip to Diagon was meant to be a quick jaunt in and out for some of the gold he had. Usually he wouldn't have bothered, but when one was short on cash, anything would do. Harry wasn't expecting to be half assaulted by the Minister of Magic, however.

"Harry, I'm so glad to find you here! I was just organizing a party to locate you!"

He thought back briefly. He was pretty sure that he hadn't committed any crimes that the magicals would be interested in. "What for?" He grimaced slightly as it came out overtly hostile.

Thankfully, the apparent idiot in front of him was oblivious. Let's hear it for magic murdering common sense!

"No reason! No reason!"

Okay. That wasn't suspicious. He stared blankly at the pudgy little man. Fudge started to shift uncomfortably. Then sweat. Then look around for an escape root, and when he found none, he broke.

"Sirius Black has escaped!"

"Right. And that has fuck all to do with me how?"

"He was a supporter of You-Know-Who!"

Harry nodded. "We all have our little problems. Now, I need to go... uh, meet up with some mates."

He spun around and started walking away, fully intent on not coming back when the fat man dared grab him. He looked down at the hand and then back up to the man they belonged to.

"I'll sever every fucking finger you have, feed them to my fucking owl, and then mail you the shit if you don't let me go right the fuck now."

Fudge jerked his hand back even as he fumed and blustered about how he wouldn't be talked to in such a way. Harry crossed his arm and stared the man down until he fell silent.

"You ain't payin' me to be one of your little loyal cocksucking doggies, either."

He marched out of the Leaky Cauldron with a smug grin on his face.

..

"Hermione, you little whore you." He greeted the bookworm enthusiastically on the train.

She sighed and didn't bother to protest the name calling. Her protests were what got her from 'bint' to 'whore' in the first place, though he'd taken to calling her Pussy Cat after the polyjuice incident.

"Who's he?" She asked, nodding to a man sleeping in the compartment as she sat down.

"Dunno, but hey, I'm going to let you help me out this year, and who knows, you could make a bit a coin."

"Just because you call me whore, doesn't make me one, dickweed."

He slid over to her until he was nestled against her side. "Love it when you call me dirty names." He panted in her ear, having to jump to the other side of the compartment to avoid her hitting him in the jaw again. Least she was bending to his will – little at a time though it was.

"But no, not whoring." He laughed. "Loansharking."

She pinched the bridge of her nose. "And how's that going to work?" 

"Well, while you were off licking authority's ass last year, I may have been setting up a little gambling den."

"A gambling den?"

"Yup." He said, with a proud smile.

"At Hogwarts?"

"Genius, right?"

"Harry..."

"Would you prefer the whoring? I can set that up right quick."

..

"So these Deviant things -"

"Dementors," Lupin cut in.

"Right, Domestic things, they suck your soul?"

Lupin nodded, deciding not to correct the youth as it was an obviously pointless venture and he most likely did it on purpose. "Only if they kiss you."

"That's... some really kinky shit. Or well, disturbing." Harry blinked in thought. "No, just fuckin' disturbing. That'd be... necrophilia or something, right?"

Lupin looked a little green at the thoughts Harry had (_probably intentionally)_ put into his head. He'd need several bottles of whiskey and a self obliviate tonight.

" I'm mean, if your _into_ that sort of thing..." He trailed off, giving Lupin a suspicious look. "You'd be one sick bastard."

Lupin fled, and Harry looked at Hermione. She could hide behind that book all she wanted, he knew she was laughing.

..

"How're you gonna help me with that much shit to do?" Harry asked, peering over her shoulder to look at her class schedule.

"I'll have enough time." She assured.

He gave her a narrow glace. "Uh-huh... pull the other."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm not fuckin' stupid _either_."

She snorted but quickly looked away at his dark look. No, he wasn't stupid, she decided, but far to clever for his own good. He was going to get hurt one of these days. "I fixed it up with Professor McGonagal."

He glared at her, and she felt the start of a cold sweat form at the back of her neck.

"I – I can't tell you."

He didn't look away.

"The Professor said..." She'd been around him for two years now, but this particular gaze... well, she hadn't even seen it when he was looking at Weasley or Malfoy or Snape. It was cold and sharp, like the shiv she'd seen him stash in his robe sleeve.

"Hermione." That was it. Just her name. And it was enough.

She leaned closer to him, her voice lower than a whisper. "It's a time-turner, alright? I twist it back to get more time. An hour here or there. Two or more if I need it."

He gave her a brilliant smile. It had too many teeth to be completely friendly, but he patted her on the head as if she were years younger. "That-a-girl. You'll of course let me borrow it, won't you, duckie?"

She nodded, knowing she didn't have a choice.

..

Hermione was trailing behind him. He was whistling and plodding along, hands in his pockets. Weasley, the fucking stalker – and he would do something about that soon – was at the rear, gasping for breath and whining about finding the north tower.

"Shut your trap before I bitch-slap you."

He was silent for a long moment then, "What's a bitch-slap?"

Hermione _almost_ told Harry not to do it, but in the end, decided Ron would be better off, physically, if she didn't. And while she didn't like the ginger, she didn't like the mess Harry left behind when he used other methods more. She refrained from wincing when Harry spun around and backhanded the boy.

She choked down a chuckle. Honest, she couldn't help it, or the words she muttered next. "Slap a ho."

Harry laughed with her as they walked away. "He makes it too easy some days."

She agreed.

..

"The Grim! The Grim!" The madwoman shrieked, waving about his teacup even as she stumbled away.

He looked to Hermione.

"The Grim, also known at the Black Dog, is considered an ill omen among wizards. It signifies -"

"Evil! Death! Death follows you!"

Hermione gave the woman a scathing look for interrupting. "Yes, it's also considered a sign of death as those who see the Grim die soon after."

"Oh," He gave a short pause, and then leaned towards her so the crazy woman wouldn't hear him. "The tealeaves don't fuckin' count, right?"

"We'll find out, won't we?"

"Little bitch." He said with something between a sneer and a grin.

..

He was trying not to laugh. Trying really, really hard. He would have used his hands to help, but they were raised up in the air, quivering. His lips were pressed into a thin white line, and his shoulders were shaking. He snorted.

Draco Malfoy, that annoying father-fucking twat, had gone off somewhere and gotten a muggle gun.

… Not that he knew how to use it, which is why Harry was having such a problem.

Harry could feel his face turn red and his eyes watering. He could also feel Hermione's eyes burrowing holes in the side of his head and hissing that he needed to 'stop laughing, you fucking imbecile'. Were he not so focused on keeping silent, he would have congratulated her on using the word 'fuck'.

"I told you that you'd regret it, Potter."

He snorted again. "I'd be more scared if you were aiming for the person next to me."

Draco, with the comment going completely overhead – stupid bastard probably waved as it went by – aimed at Hermione and sneered, "Scared, Potter?"

Now she was as red in the face as him, snickering quietly with little hitching coughs to cover it.

"Do you even know how to use that?"

"I'm not a stupid mud-blood!" He exclaimed and pulled the trigger.

The gun went off. The bullet ricocheted off the stone wall, twice, and embedded itself in the blond's calf. Malfoy collapsed to the ground wailing while Harry and Hermione both started howling, for obvious and completely different reasons.

..

"Now, the incantation is _riddikulus_." Lupin instructed, staying well clear of Harry.

"Of course the incantation is ridiculous." Harry muttered. "It's a fucking monster in a closet. Woooo, look out... it will devour your feet and other shit."

Harry had to give Lupin props that he ignored him considering half the class was snickering into their sleeves.

"Mr. Longbottom, you first." He gestured the chubby boy up and stepped nearer to the wardrobe that rattled. "Ready?"

Neville gave a tentative nod. Lupin swung the door open. Snape stepped out of the closet. (_"As if that isn't ironic." Harry murmured, which earned a barely-there smile from Lupin.)_ Neville stuttered while the rest of the class twittered in amusement. Lupin coached the boy through how to use the spell, telling him to picture the man in his grandmother's clothing. What they were left with was something between horrifying and hilarious.

"Drag queen." Harry coughed.

..

"This is like a bad horror movie." Harry stated as he stared at the slashed up portrait.

"I have to agree." From Hermione beside him.

"So, Black, huh?"

She nodded. "That's what everyone is saying."

"Isn't it odd that, if he's supposed to be after me, he attacked the Gryffindors?"

Hermione sighed. "The papers don't really advertize where you got sorted to."

"Don't know why." Harry kicked the portrait frame. "Ain't like the marshmellows are all that bad. Sure, their a little emo and angsty, but what teenager isn't?"

"They're called Hufflepuffs, and just because their open with their feelings doesn't make them 'emo and angsty'."

"Yes it does, but back to the picture." He kicked it again.

"What about it?" She sighed.

"I say we put on some masks and do a few more."

She thought about it a moment. "As long as we leave the historical ones alone and don't actually damage the magic."

She had to make concessions if she wanted to keep an eye on him.

"Deal."

..

"It's a map." He stated blandly.

"Not just any map," One started.

"But a map made by the Marauders!" The other finished.

"It shows everything-"

"And everyone-"

"- in the school."

Harry gave them a narrow look. "We had a discussion about sharing sentences, let's not have it again."

"Sure." They said together with a whiplash-worthy series of nods. Harry was the boss, after all. You don't argue with the man that cut you a good deal, and gave very, very discrete and well-known contacts... or threatened you with grievous bodily harm.

"The map has some secret passages, even those that lead out of the school." Fred pointed them out, dragging a finger along one.

"More than that, it can show you where anyone is at any given moment." George traced a red dot with a name floating above it.

"Useful. Now, where's the best place to watch to get blackmail?"

..

Harry studied the object quizzically. Who the hell would send him one? Anyone who knew him, or at least heard of the incidents on the pitch and his overall disdain for all things Quidditch and brooms in particular.

"You got a Firebolt?"

"Bleedin' hell." Harry muttered. He thought he'd taken care of his Weasley problem. Apparently not as the twit was standing there, staring longingly at the broom. Looked as though he'd need to make a more lasting impression. Unfortunately for Harry, and luckily for Weasley's continued health, Hermione appeared.

"Who got _you_ a broom?" The incredulous tone was heavy.

"Think I could make a good bit of coin from it?" He asked, ignoring Weasley's sudden wailing and abrupt trip into unconsciousness, courtesy of Hermione.

"How are you going to do that, you can't put out an advert for it."

He smiled at her. "I never did get around to showing you the Pit, did I?"

..

"So?" Hermione asked as he came out of the pub.

"Seems that Sirius Black is the man who betrayed my parents to snaky bitch-boy."

"I'm so sorry." Hermione offered her sympathies.

Harry shrugged. "That's what happens."

"How can you say that?" She wasn't surprised the the sheer coldness of his statement, but wondered at he ability to be so at the thought of his parents deaths.

Harry pulled a pack of cigarette from his robe. When the hell did he start smoking? He stuffed one in his mouth and lit it. He took a long drag before answering.

"I've seen shit a lot crueler than people dying for their families or a cause they believe in. Honestly, if I believed death could be a dignified event, theirs would be. Now come on, I plan to go get smashed while I have the chance."

She followed behind him silently. Perhaps he wasn't as unaffected as she had thought.

..

"You need to focus on a happy memory." Lupin coached.

"Happy?"

"Like a birthday party." He gave a generic example.

"Never had one."

"Ah... um, how about coming to Hogwarts, just to start off."

"I was practically kidnapped and forced to come here." Harry pointed out.

"Er... unicorns?"

"I saw one murdered and then saw stuttering-bitch drink it's blood."

"...Puppies?" Was weakly suggested.

"That crazy hag keeps saying I'm gonna die because of one." He retorted.

"Quidd-" He hadn't even finished the suggestion, but clearly heard the grating sound of a trigger being pulled back. "... yes, well, what makes you happy?"

"I enjoy shooting others, setting fires, and performing, generally, illegal and illicit, activities." He stated as if such hobbies were respectable.

"I... see..."

..

The 'ching, ching, ching,' echoed loudly in the large room, followed by numerous other sounds, calls for luck, and the shuffle of cards.

"Place your bets!"

"Fifty on black. Thirteen on black eleven."

"Hit me."

"Fold."

"Raise you twenty."

"Call."

"Dealer wins."

Hermione starred around in no little wonder. "How did you do all this?"

When she'd seen the word 'Pit' carved into a door hidden in the furthest corner of the dungeon, she hadn't expected to walk in and find a small casino.

"You know me – fuckin' brilliant."

"Well and good." She scowled at him. "But how the hell did you _do_ it?"

"House elves, bribery, slave trade – the usual."

"Oh..." Then she gave him a look of disbelief. "Did you say slave trade?"

"Course not, that would be illegal and morally wrong." Harry said, as he sauntered off to the poker table.

..

" The fuck is the matter with you?" Harry shouted. "Sure, let just try to prove how bad-ass we are, and then need me to save your ass. _Again._ Next time, I'll feed you to the fuckin' thing that's tryin' to eat you!"

"Harry-"

"Fuck off!" Harry snarled at the escaped convict, and then he abruptly spun back around to the ginger. "Forget next time, I'm gonna feed you to the damn-"

"That is enough."

"Professor Lupin?"

"Black."

"Remus."

"_Sirius_ Black?"

"Ron!"

"Ms. Granger."

"And I'm Harry, now that we all fuckin know each other, can we move on!"

"Quite, Mr. Potter."

"Snape."

"Black."

"Severus."

"Werewolf."

" Knock it the fuck _off_!"

..

"So, how about you come live with me after we turn in the rat."

Harry looked the man up and down. "Thanks but no."

"But I'm... you know, innocent."

It wasn't Harry, but Hermione who snorted. Then, surprisingly, it was Peter Pettigrew who commented.

"You'd have more luck if you'd actually been a convict." He muttered.

"Shut up you filthy fucking rat." Sirius snarled and knocked him upside the head hard enough to send him to the floor.

Harry stared down at the whimpering man and kicked him twice in the face. "I do suppose I could visit... How do you feel about strangers coming and going at all hours of the night."

"Are we talking women?" He asked with a lascivious smile and a waggle of his eyebrows.

"Don't encourage him." This from Lupin who had an idea of the kind of things Harry would get up to. "And you," He turned to Harry. "Don't give him ideas. He's bad enough on his own."

" But _Mooney_, some of those ideas were yours."

"Like what?"

"Like you wanted to start a-"

Remus clapped his hands over Sirius' mouth with a nervous laugh. "Don't believe a word he says, they're all lies."

Sirius pulled Remus' hand from his mouth. "Don't let him fool you, he may have been quiet, but that's always the one's you have to look out for because-"

Remus pulled him into a head-lock, and Harry nodded.

"Don't have to tell me, you should hear him talk about dementors."

..

"Alright," Harry nodded. "I got this."

"What do you mean 'you got this'?" Hermione asked.

"Easy" He pulled his gun. "I shoot the stalker, shoot the rat, shoot Snape, and all the problems in the world shall be solve."

That didn't make a lot of sense, and she told him so.

"Well, it'll fuckin' solve a bunch of my issues, won't it?"

"_Your_ issues have to do with a incessant need to harm others, usually resulting in permanent injury!"

"Gave them all fair warning, didn't I? So it isn't my fault they're all fucking brain-damaged and didn't listen."

"You could have done something different!" She accused.

"I could, but where's the fun in that, yeah? 'Sides, aren't we supposed to be rescuing my innocent godfather?"

"You don't have to sound so disappointed that he was innocent." She muttered.

Harry shrugged. "Now, where to find that greasy cocksucker..." He murmured mostly to himself as he checked the magazine and chamber of his gun. "I bet he's at his little lab that he thinks no one knows about..."

He started a quick jog off.

Hermione threw herself at him, knocking the both of them over and sending the just used time-turner skidding across the floor. "You can't to that!"

"And why the fuck can't I?"

"Er..." Hurry Hermione, she reprimanded herself, think fast! "There's not really a good place to hide a body in the school, and everyone will suspect you!"

"Hmm..." He tapped the barrel against the side of his face. "Both good points. So, what does bitch-genius recommend?"

"We'll start with saving Buckbeak..."

..

"Brilliant plan, hag, want to try for another?" He spat the question, staring up at the horde of dementors that were slowly descending upon the other Harry and Sirius along with the pair of them. "Save Buckbeak, follow them to the shack, distract the werewolf... and were are we now? About to get our souls fuckin _eaten_. Here I was, thinking you have some modicum of sense."

"You shouldn't use words you can't spell." She hissed back. "And can't you use the patronus? You've been practicing all year!"

"Yeah, and death, destruction, and mayhem are not appropriate 'happy memories' that are needed to make one. Good fuckin job of asking _before_ you decided to put us up shit creek!"

"I don't see you doing any better, overblown piece of jail-bait!"

"Fuck you!" He waved his pistol. "_I_ wanted to shoot the root of the problem, but you had to go and whore yourself to authority, _again_ and screw us both over. I hope they eat _your_ soul first so I can watch!"

Hermione pointed over to the nearly passed out Harry number two (or was it one?). "Well here's your chance!"

"Fine!" He shoved her out on the ice, watching as she slipped, fell on her ass, and slid to the middle. "Show that bitch who jail-bait is."

Hermione screamed and scrambled backwards as several of the dementor group split off and headed right for her. She was so fucked! She hadn't thought Harry would actually do it! Shit! The dementors hood fell back and it reached for her. Her body was frozen. It leaned forward. She couldn't even close her eyes.

A sharp crack shattered the chilling moment of her death. The dementor stumbled back, clutching its head and shrieking. Then it turned and flew off, looking like nothing more than a black blur as it disappeared. She looked back behind her.

Harry was standing a few steps away with a little manic grin, pointing his gun at where the dementor had been.

"Oh, fuck the hell yes!" He fired into the horde, chasing off more and more of the creatures. "Run bitches! Run!" He cackeld.

Hermione gaped at him. Really? A muggle gun? Or...?

There was a flash of magic just as the bullet left the barrel. Hermione gave it narrow eyes. That was definently misuse of muggle artifacts, she thought, but she wasn't going to tell anyone. Harry had just save their collective asses, again.

..

"I know you had something to do with it, Potter!" Snape burst into the hospital wing.

"And I was pretty sure that you knew not to fuckin' yell at me!"

Snape glowered. "I know you helped Black escape."

"Oh yeah? Good luck proving that one, jack-off. I've a solid alibi." He gave a smile that was full of evil just around the edges. "Just try me."

Snape did the wise thing and backed off, for now. The boy looked as unstable as Bellatrix Lestrange right now, and it was best not to tempt fate, especially as he was sure that fate had it in for him... And the fact that he knew the boy was well armed and patient enough to wait for a good opportunity

if this moment didn't suit.

"I'll be watching you." He hissed as he swept away.

"What a dick."

"At least we know he's scared of you." Hermione offered and took a seat near him.

"He ain't scared." Harry didn't look from the hospital's doors. "You don't _scare_ people like him."

"Then what is he?"

Harry clicked his tongue against his teeth. "He's fuckin' smart, is what he is."

"And how did you come to that conclusion?" She leaned forward, resting her head on her hand.

"Cause he's still fuckin breathing."

..

Harry leaned back against the wall, watching the Weasley twins beat up on some bloke who owed him money. They were good enforcers once you knew how to control them. Hermione walked up to him, looking fairly contrite, and she had to be, if she was ignoring what was going on just a little ways off.

"I'm sorry."

"Eh?" He gaped at her. "Say that again, cause I don't think I heard you right."

"I said I'm sorry, okay?" She folded her arms over her chest. "You were right, the situation would have gone smoother with Snape, Weasley, and Pettigrew out of the way."

"Alright." He nodded and started off walking towards the twins.

"That's it?" She asked. Where was the condescending mocking? The names?

He looked over his shoulder. "Sure, it was a lesson learned after all."

"And what's that?" She asked dryly.

"That I'm the fuckin' genius who's always right." And he continued away with a cocky swagger.

..

"Don't do it." Hermione warned him, taking a menacing step forward.

"What?"

" Don't you _dare."_

"What?" He asked with a smirk.

"Harry James Potter, I'm warning you."

"I don't see why it bothers you so much." He said with a shrug.

"It goes against the well known and accepted laws of -"

"Authority whore." He cut her off. 

" I'll cut off your balls and stuff them up _Weasley's_ ass." She hissed.

He gave her an exaggerated pout. "Couldn't you stick them somewhere nice?"

"Would you prefer Malfoy?"

"Er... no." He screwed up his face. "And I must say, Hermione, you've become such a fucking bitch this year."

"From you that's a compliment."

He smiled and nodded. "Ta!" And then he disappeared.

"HARRY!"

~..~

A/N: I think some people are getting the wrong impression here, so I thought I'd explain... Harry isn't some super bad-ass assassin, though it does seem like it sometimes. But lets face facts here, he's a kid with a gun who enjoys shooting others. That's it. Think of it as GTA : Harry Potter. He's running around shooting, stabbing, and causing general mayhem with complete disregard for any consequences.

Try not to read to much into the background of the story, yeah, it is crack after all. :)


	4. Chapter 4

_**Gangland : Year 4**_

.

.

Harry leaned against the wall with his hands folded behind his head and listening to the roar of the crowd in the stadium just above him. He sneered. What a ridiculous sport.

"Hey boss guy!" The first red-head greeted as he rounded the corner.

"And where were you?" Harry asked.

They glanced at each other. "They veela were really distracting."

He sighed and palmed his face. "Fucking great, you got distracted by boobs."

"Boobs are great!" They defended themselves.

It took Harry a moment, but he nodded. "Well, yes, but let's get down to business.

..

"Well, that isn't good." He said, pointing to the on-fire tents.

Fred and George gave him identical bland looks.

"Suppose we should run?" He asked, looking at the muggles that were being spun through the air and the dark robed wizards that continued to cause chaos.

Personally, he would have rather been down there with them. They were setting fires after all. Not to mention the general mayhem. It all would have been a good time. He sighed. To bad they were a bunch of ass-backwards inbreds who thought that this 'torment the muggles' was a brilliant and grand idea. He'd have liked to know what they thought after they had a satellite guided missile shoved right up their asses.

"Lets head to the woods." Twin one said.

Twin two pulled Harry along after they noticed that he was just staring longingly out at the destruction.

..

It was fuckin' ridiculous, and Harry had no problem expressing his disappointment in the family as a whole. A muggle taxi. Really? Magical fire-place. Magical bus. Magical fucking flying brooms. And they chose a taxi. There really was a reason that he avoided the Weasley's as a whole. The twins were the only redeeming aspects it had.

Finally, they climbed out the car, slipped onto the platform, and climbed onto the train. Hermione found him fast enough and chucked the two tag-a-long stalkers from their compartment. She sat across from him, a slightly maniacal look in her eye that he could definitely appreciate.

"Have anything on the agenda for this year?" She asked, almost solemnly, but there was mocking in the word _agenda_.

He scooted forward on his seat. "What did you have in mind?"

Her smile was feral.

..

"The Triwizard Tournament?" Harry asked.

"It's a tournament that hasn't been practiced in hundreds of years." One of the older Hufflepuffs answered for him.

"Why?"

"To many people died." This from another, further up the table.

Harry gave a short pause. "Was it gruesome and horrible?"

"Yeah." They didn't bat an eye at his last question. They were all getting used to him now, and the first-years were already briefed ahead of time to look out for Harry Potter.

"So it's pretty much a guaranteed bloodbath?"

"Probably." The two who had been answering his questions shrugged and went back to eating.

..

"I won't say it often, so appreciate this; you are brilliant."

The room wasn't large, little bigger than a large closet in fact, but it was what was in it that was important. Hermione, the uber-thoughtful bitch, had somehow procured a number of parts. Gun parts. Or, more accurately, weapon parts, and the schematics for that wonderful, beautiful grenade-launcher he had seen in the mirror of awesome presents.

"Hermione, you are going to be my girlfriend until you outlive your usefulness. All your brilliance, your gifts, and your body belong to me."

He half expected her to gape at him, maybe stutter and refuse. Instead she took a step closer, twisted his tie in her hand to pull him towards her, and spoke very, very softly. "As long as you understand that_ you_ belong to _me_. _I don't share."_

"Deal." He said smugly.

..

Harry watched as the carriages were brought to landing gently by great winged horses that he were pretty sure _weren't_ called pegasai. He blinked at the very large,_ and he didn't mean fat_, woman that stepped from the lead carriage.

"That is the gayest thing I've ever seen."

"Harry," Hermione scolded in a whisper. "they're all women." She said this as if it was the reason he'd called it gay in the first place.

He turned to her with his arms folded, a very serious and solemn expression on his face and stated, quite slowly -for her benefit, naturally- what he meant.

" Hermione, them being women, cross-dressers, or part fucking monster, doesn't even factor into the level of gayness that I was pointing out. They," He pointed to the horses. "are fucking winged horses pulling around fucking flying carriages that are hauling around little girls. I don't think you can _get_ anymore gay unless they break out into song."

It was as he finished saying this that a ship rose from the center of the near-by lake. His solemn expression suddenly fell flat.

"I shouldn't even have to mention the number of jokes from that appearance alone. Ass-pirates, anyone?"

..

Dumbledore turned away, assuming (what should have been correctly) that the choosing of the champions was over with. The fire flaring a fourth time silenced the hall abruptly once again. A fourth piece of paper, singed around the edges, landed in the Headmaster's hand.

"Harry Potter?"

Harry jerked upright. "Oh, shit."

"Harry Potter!"

"_Oh_, shit!"

"Harry," Hermione shoved at his shoulder. "Go. Go."

"Hermione?" He looked so betrayed as she shoved him from his seat that she actually felt a little sorry for him.

That sense of pity died, however, when she noticed him trying to take a look down her shirt, forcing her to take immediate and violent action.

"What is it with guys being perverts?" She hissed and looked up... right into the faces of the twins.

..

"I didn't fuckin do it!" He denied as soon as Dumbledore and the others entered the room.

"Of course you did," That blond bitch that had been chosen had a heavy accent, he noted. "Who doesn't want fame and fortune."

Harry brushed his hair up, flashing his scar. "Survived the unsurvivable. Assaulted by hordes of woman on the street. Everyone knows my name. Do what I want and get away with it scar. Really, what else could I get from this pissy little tournament? But, I suppose, as you being what you are, you wouldn't understand."

"And what is _that_ supposed to mean, little boy?" She asked scathingly, taking it as a slight on her gender or creature inheritance.

He smiled at her, looked her up and down slowly, stopping for a few moments on a prominent (or pair of) feature, before meeting her eyes. "Well, you're French, of course."

The Bulgarian group sputtered with restrained laughter. Dumbledore and the UK's officials were frowning at him, and Fluer flushed with anger.

"Harry, don't be rude to the delegations... or anyone in general."

Harry snorted. "She started it."

"Oh?"

He grabbed the waist-band of his trousers. "I'll have you know that I'm anything but little."

The Bulgarians weren't so restrained this time, and everyone was blushing now except for Harry who was looking rather smug.

..

He stepped into the common room and was immediately surrounded by an army of angst. All with Cedric Diggory – fellow champion and, Harry was sure, closet homosexual – leading the way. He looked around himself with a raise brow. They would probably win just by numbers alone, but he could guarantee that a lot of them were going down with him.

"How did you do it?"

Harry looked off to the one who spoke, Smith, and contemplated only a moment. To lie, or not to lie. Smith was looking hostile so...

"I'm just that fuckin' badass."

Smith scowled. "You know, I bet he didn't do anything. Just had an older kid put his name in."

"Jealous, douche-bag?"

Smith's cheeks flamed pink, and an older grouping of Hufflepuffs boxed him out when it looked like he was going to say something.

"Look, just because you're Harry Potter doesn't mean that you get to get away with screwing up the tournament. Everyone knows that Cedric is the real champion."

"Oh?" Harry folded his arms over his chest. "And who're you? His pimp? Or is it that your his boy-friend? Giver or taker?"

"All the fourth-years and younger need to go to their dorms. The rest of you, I think it's time to teach our little thug some manners."

Harry didn't so much as move when they started to surround him.

"Bring it on, ya cunts."

..

"Do try not to be back before the end of the year." Pomphery sighed. "And try not to fill every one of my hospital beds again, either."

"They started it."

She actually smiled at him. "I don't doubt it. Hufflepuff's can be quite vicious, you know." She winked at him.

"I think you mean fucking rabid."

"Even so, I suggest you steer clear of them all."

"And where am I supposed to go? It's not like I have spare commons and dorm on hand."

"I'm sure you'll think of something. You're a resourceful boy." She gave him a condescending pat on the head and sent him off.

He stared at her in disbelief until she disappeared behind of the patient curtains.

..

Harry had known that dragons existed in the magical world, but apparently knowing and _**knowing**_ were two different things because he still couldn't believe what he was seeing. Four dragons, all very large with big teeth and claws to match, were penned before him. It was suddenly very understandable as to why there was such a high death count for these tournaments.

"I'm fucked." He said aloud. "Sideways." He added when a large breath of fire passed in front of him.

He mournfully headed back to the school.

"Might as well crawl into a fuckin' hole, curl up, and die. Save myself the trouble." He threw his arms up. "I swear, every year it's something new. Trolls, giant snakes, spiders, werewolves, ghosts... what is it with this place and finding things that want to _eat_ me."

Ah, well, at least he had a bloody brilliant idea for dealing with it.

..

Hermione snapped the book closed, and stared at it's cover. "Sorry, Harry."

"Sorry? Sorry what? Like 'sorry, I've got to go right now' or 'sorry, you're getting flamed broiled by a mythical lizard'?"

She pursed her lips. "I'm not anymore happy about this than you are."

"You ain't the one who's going to get _set on fire_ if something doesn't get figured out!"

"You're such a drama queen."

Harry sputtered. "Drama? I'll show you drama. I'm going with my first plan."

Hermione snorted, and then suddenly remembered what plan A had been. "You can't do that!"

"Fuckin' watch me."

"They're an endangered species!"

"And they're going to be fuckin' extinct if I have any say in it!" He called over his shoulder as he walked away.

..

"Alright." He muttered, slinging the massive weapon up on his shoulder. "Ready, aim... Fire!" A grenade puffed out the end, launching straight for the dragon mid body.

A body which was unexpectedly agile and flexible for it's size.

The beast dipped under the projectile and roared at him. Harry was at a loss. The fucker was supposed to go boom, not duck under impeding doom and breath – _Oh Shit!Fire!_ He threw himself behind a rock as the flames passed overhead. He uncurled and glanced over his rock shield, turning around when something landed behind him. He looked up to see Hermione looking down at him nonchalantly.

"You've got to be fuckin' kiding me."

It was a broom.

The bitch.

She was laughing at him.

..

"Dancing, right... How about no."

"It is required that all the champions attend the yule ball." Sprout told him in a no nonsense tone that he hadn't thought the portly woman capable of.

"I don't dance."

"You will."

"I won't." He glared up at her and felt like a typical fourteen year old for once in his life.

"You are going."

"I am _not_."

He probably shouldn't argue with her, but he was betting that he could outrun her by far.

..

Hermione was gaping at him, which was rather understandable on the whole. If he saw himself, he'd be gaping too.

"Harry?"

"Yeah." He said with a sigh and a nod.

"What...?"

"Sprout." He said with another firm nod.

"Professor Sprout did this?" She asked, still gaping.

Harry nodded and looked away. The thing was, he couldn't get it _off_, and worse than _that_ was the fact that he looked _good_ in it.

"Professor Sprout put you in a dress for the Yule Ball?"

"She's surprisingly fast for a fat lady... like a hippo or something." The woman could have been on the fucking track team.

Hermione was quiet for a long time, even after she took his arm.

"Well, it brings out the color of your eyes..."

"I should just be glad that she spared me sequins and lace." He muttered.

..

"You want me to do what?"

"Gillyweed, Harry." Hermione huffed. "Neville mentioned it, and it'll work perfect for the second task."

"Uh huh, and you don't see any problem, _what-so-ever_, in believing a magical weed is going to let me breath under water – for an hour, mind you – to find something apparently stolen that going to be in a lake in the middle of winter?"

"It is not the middle of winter." She crossed her arms.

"Is that the only argument you have with my whole statement?"

"Have a little faith in magic, Harry."

"Sure, faith in a culture that seems to have subtle forms of homicide as the common theme. Why, just sign me up with the cult leader now. No brainwashing necessary."

"Magic isn't a cult."

She studiously ignored the group of first years that walked behind her chanting under their breath.

"And besides, homicide seems to be your preferred mode of operation."

..

The twins looked at the objects in their hands then tilted their heads to look up a Harry. "These are?"

"Guns."

Both made a surprisingly girly squeak and dropped them. Harry sighed and picked them up off the floor. "Don't drop them, dumb-asses. Guns can go off on their own if they aren't handled properly."

"Why are you giving us _those_." One of them asked.

Harry gave a put upon sigh. "You two are my main enforcers. You get me what I need, when I need it. I figured it was time for a promotion, and my fucking entourage better well be able to shoot someone in the head."

"What about magic?"

Harry shrugged. "Do what you want, but you better know how to shoot too... Don't let Hermione know you dropped them. The bitch has become a fanatic and put those together herself."

"Hermione?" They said at the same time, paling so much that they looked gray.

"Yeah." He nodded. "You two graduate next year, right?"

They nodded.

"Good, here's the plan..."

..

"What the hell is the matter with you all!" Harry shouted from his place on the dock. "It's fucking February."

"Mr. Potter, the whistle has blown. You're already five minutes behind the others."

"That water is fucking _cold_. I ain't doing it!"

"Mr. Potter," Ludo Bagman stood up, his wand to his throat. "Every champion is obliged to compete in accordance with the contract entered into with the Goblet."

"Fuck you!" He shouted back. "I didn't enter in the first place!"

"You have an obligation-"

"To sit my ass down and do nothing!" Harry finished.

"Don't make us throw you in, Potter." Another voice, much nearer than Bagman's had been, warned him.

Harry looked back over his shoulder to a crew of Hufflepuffs. "Good to see you out of the hospital wing, gents." He nodded and gave a grim smile, an idea coming to mind.

Harry pulled out a jar and his gun. The former was tossed to the bloke who'd spoken; the latter was pointed at his head. "You've been deputized. Get in the fuckin' lake."

..

"I can't believe you."

"What?"

" How the hell did you get away with that? No, how the hell did they even award you _points_?"

He smiled at Hermione, who was wrapped tightly in a blanket and sitting on a hospital bed.

"They thought it was a clever use of resources." He shrugged. "Told ya, I'm fucking brilliant."

"You wouldn't jump in a lake to save me?"

"I wouldn't cross the street to save you..." He gave a short pause. "I thought you knew this coming in? Didn't the gun-wielding, crime-prone, not-afraid-to-stab-you-in-the-fucking-face attitude give you a hint?"

"Excuse me for thinking I get special privileges." She said haughtily.

"You get the special privilege of being Harry Potter's arm candy. What else could you ever want?"

..

"I have a present for you."

"It ain't Christmas." He peered over his shoulder to the large package she was carrying.

"It's for the task."

Harry nudged the box. "Flame-thrower?" He tugged at the bow on top.

"Sure," She said dryly. "Used up my whole supply of napalm while I was at it."

"Need more?"

Hermione smacked him over the head. "No! It isn't a flame-thrower! Do you even realize how impractical they are? Large, unwieldy, no to mention you have to carry a fuel supply as well!"

"I was only fuckin' with you." He commented plaintively, rubbing his head.

"I thought you liked it rough?"

He leered at her. "You shouldn't project. All you have to do is ask, and I'll give it to you."

Harry hadn't thought that she could still blush with how long she'd been around him.

"Open the damn box."

He did so. Only to stop and stare at it.

"And how is this not _large, unwieldy, and having to carry a fuel supply_?" He pulled the chainsaw out of its packaging. It was impressive. Customized in fact... bloody awesome.

"Magic."

"Cultist." He accused.

"I hope you get eaten in that maze."

"That's a little uncalled for, don't you think?" Especially since the chances of that happening were really, really high.

..

"Ready, Go!" Bagman called for Harry to enter the maze.

Half the crowd expected Harry to refuse. The other half thought he would run in, muggle weapons blazing and killing everything that he came across. Only three knew what he was doing when he pulled the chainsaw and charged the hedges, madly cackling. He cut a Harry sized hole through it and proceeded to the next.

Hermione watched him cut through the hedges until they closed up behind him, wondering if her gift had been such a great idea. Sure, it had use for this task, but knowing Harry – and she _did_ know him – she would bet that he would find other ways to make it useful... like dismembering bodies so that he could finally find a good place to hide them in the castle. Such as the walls, or maybe a convenient pipe.

Harry was enjoying himself. The majority of his up close and personal encounters had always been with knives, shivs, or derivatives of either. A chainsaw though... well, a chainsaw was just a wonderful thing. The teeth on it cutting, shredding. The power to cut through bones and Kevlar. He'd have to get Hermione something nice to thank her. He cut through yet another hedge, this one falling open to a long stretch that seemed fogged over heavily, more so than any other path in the maze.

He blinked at it, squinted, cock his head from one side then to the other, and then pointed his chainsaw at it. "I don't know what the fuck you are, so I'm going around."

And proceeded to do just that, finding that he had to cut three aisle over just to get around it's full expanse before being able to move forward again. His next challenge was a little more lively. A sphinx. She offered him the chance to answer the riddle, and possibly pass her, or for him to turn around and find another way.

He offered to cut her up into bite-sized pieces and make shish kebabs for the audience.

He hadn't expected the spider.

"Mother fucking cat," He spat as he stepped over the spiders body and five of its no-longer-attached legs. "I outta cut her tail off and shove it up her ass. Could'a at least warned me."

..

"Right," Harry nodded. "No more grabbing magical cups because they take you to fucking cemeteries."

"So did we win?" Cedric whispered to him.

"Does it look like it?" He asked in disdain. "Do you see cheering masses here? Maybe they're all hiding behind the tombstones, waiting to jump out and yell surprise. Go ahead, walk over and take a peek."

Cedric took a step forward.

"Kill the spare." A voice hissed, and Cedric collapsed in a splash of green light.

"I don't even feel bad about that." Harry said aloud, and then turned towards the voice. "Mental note, fucking demon babies are also in fucking cemeteries."

"Wormtail!" The baby hissed.

Harry stumbled backwards out of the way of a spell and into the arms of the grim reaper that loomed over a gravestone. It reached forwards, pinning him against it's stone body with it's scythe.

"Shit!" Harry pulled his gun and shot it. The marble didn't even crack. "Fucker!" He tried to wiggle from beneath the stone holding him.

"Begin." The baby hissed.

..

"Harry Potter, we meet again."

"Voldemort, I think you're taking your snake fetish a bit to far."

The Death Eaters hissed and shuffled forward. Voldemort waved them back. "Your mouth shall get you into trouble, one day, boy."

"So I've been told, snake bitch."

"I think... that a lesson in manners is needed._ Crucio!_"

Harry writhed against the stone, and then against the ground when the reaper dropped him. Screams tore from his throat, and even after the spell was lifted, his muscles quivered.

"I have to wonder if you deserve a wizards death. The way you tote around that muggle scums' weapons... Perhaps you'd like a worthless end, just like they shall get." Voldemort said thoughtfully. "But, I am a merciful Lord, and you are a wizard, despite you disgusting mudblood mother. So take up your wand Harry Potter, and we shall duel."

"_Duel_ ... Fucking hell! What is wrong with you?" Harry gathered to his feet and pointed at the Dark Lord. "_There_ it was. The perfect shot! And you went and fucked it up seven ways to Sunday! _Fucking_... _this_ is how you do it!"

Harry pulled his gun again, and shot one of the Death Eaters.

"Don't fucking boast about my death you mangy snake fucking twat! Fucking do it! I swear, you lot act like this is a fucking TV show or something! Let's just announce our crazy-ass grandiose pl-"

"_Crucio!" _ After a time, Voldemort released the spell, and knelt next to Harry. "Does it hurt, Harry Potter?"

"I'm going to fucking kill you." Harry breathed out through the pain.

Voldemort laughed. "Then pick up your wand, boy, and try."

..

Harry hit the ground with a dull thump and a curse that had a good majority of the people near-by covering their mouths in shock. Cedric's body was a heavy weight across his legs, and he was somewhat glad for the fact that he couldn't feel them or much of anything at all. A hand touched his face and came away with blood. Harry looked up at Dumbledore.

"He's pretty quick... with a knife." And what a surprise that had been considering the man had been so eager to use magic.

"Who, Harry?"

"Voldemort."

"Harry!" Both he and Dumbledore looked to Hermione, who was in turn looking at them with horror.

"Snake bitch says I need to learn magic." He grinned at her.

Her face turned red. "That mother fucking, cock sucking, cunt! I'll cut his fucking balls off and shove them down his fucking throat! I'll show that fucking cum stain who the fucking boss is! How dare he think he can -"

Dumbledore turned back to Harry, valiantly ignoring Hermione's continued rant. "I think that Ms. Granger has spent to much time around you, perhaps."

Harry looked at the gathering crowd. "I think I should teach her some new words myself."

..

"Alright, Harry." Hermione said with folded arms, staring down at him.

"Uh, yeah?"

"We're going to deal with this."

"With what?" He asked warily, backing up a step and looking her over for a weapon. Hermione with a gun was fucking scary.

"You can not apparate out of Hogwarts."

"But -"

"Let me rephrase," She pulled a gun from the small of her back. "You _will not_ apparate out of Hogwarts."

Harry was going to respond when, fortunately, Draco happened by and opened his mouth.

"What's the matter, Potter, can't keep your mudblood on a leash?"

Hermione let a shot of in his direction with a sneer. "Piss off Malfoy and go before I decide to make you Voldemort's paraplegic catamite."

She turned back to Harry and found him missing. "There's always next year, Harry." She whispered to her pistol, and somewhere in London, Harry felt a chill go down his spine.

..

A/N: No offense intended to anyone reading this fic. :) And my props to Naq for the chainsaw idea and for the additional plot help.

Fun Fact: Hippo's can reach up to 30mph ground running speed. So yes, they're very fast.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Gangland : Year 5**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

"I'm going to shoot Hermione for jinxing me." Harry swore, ignoring his cousin to stare at the quickly approaching dementor. "Fucking... You wait right here." He said to Dudley.

Dudley had frozen in fear and despair, Harry, on the other hand, bolted down the tunnel they'd crossed paths in. He would have made it, too, were it not for the second one coming in from the opposite side.

"Shit. Shit piss bloody fuck!" He skittered back. "Okay, right. Magic. You can do this, Harry." He pulled out his wand. "Most bad-ass mother in town... what was that chant? Um... something about fire? _Infernus! _Uh, _Inflamio? Fire, fire, damn you!_"

Honestly, he wasn't surprised it didn't work beyond a few sparks. Magic was balls anyway.

"Fuck it." Guns are better.

..

"So, let me get this straight. You're here to escort me to the secret base of a secret organization?"

"Yup." The pink haired woman stated cheerfully.

"On broom?"

"Yes."

"I see..." He looked over to Moody. "And you, paranoid bastard you are, don't have a problem with this."

"I was out voted." The man grumbled.

"And you were alright with that?" Harry asked incredulously. "From what I'd heard, I thought you would have taken off, kidnapped me, and went back to the secret base before they even left."

"I've been briefed on your school record."

"Oh." That explained it.

..

"Blood traitors! Filthy half-bloods! In my father's house!"

Harry watched as the curtains were pulled back over the angry painting.

"Who's the bitch?"

"My mother."

"My condolences." Harry offered.

"I'm not sorry she's dead."

"Me either; I'm sorry you're her kid."

..

"Now, remember, there's nothing to worry about. They'll ask you a few questions and-"

"It's not the first time I've been to court." Harry interrupted. "And a few times its been for worse things. I mean, honestly, a hearing for fucking expulsion... twats. I usually just get the boot." Then he muttered, "Don't see why there's a hearing in the first place, s'not like I actually _cast_ anything."

"What was that, Harry?" Arthur asked. "Here we are. You go by yourself from here on. Good luck!"

Harry watched him go. "That was... a little ominous..."

He stepped in and very quickly realized that this wasn't going to be quite like muggle courts, but being as the judge panel was all magical, he was confident.

At least until they railroaded him, not even letting him speak.

"Oi! Wait just a -" They talked over him, among themselves. "Shut the fuck up!"

"Mr. Potter that is highly-"

" Piss off. I know how trials are supposed to work." He got to he feet. "I'm supposed to have fucking representation here. Provided by you seeing as how you changed the time by _hours_. Only criminals are allowed to fuck the judicial system, and if that's you, then you need to fucking switch me spots 'cause I ain't done shit! Now get me a court appointed lawyer, or I'll sue you all."

"And how do you plan to do that, boy, when we are the law?" Said some older man from high in the back row.

"I know that there's an international check and balance on magical courts. One of the first things I found out when I realized how ass-backwards this society is. So, are you going to comply, or am I going to have to get nasty?"

He was quickly appointed a lawyer who made sure that Harry would come out innocent lest he get, "his balls cut off and then mounted above the mantle just so there would always be a reminder of the kids he could never have."

..

Harry sighed plaintively. "I really don't see the point in this."

Hermione sat quietly, staring at him.

"It's just a train ride."

"It's a tradition." She hissed.

"For you... I wouldn't be on this damn thing if it wasn't for -"

Hermione lifted her 9mm.

"Yeah, for that." He slouched as far as he could in the seat until most of his lower body was sprawled across the floor.

..

"Holy shit." Harry said, blinking slowly.

Hermione sighed. "What now?"

"That is one fucking ugly bitch."

Hermione looked to where he pointed and had to agree. Not only was she fairly squat and round, but she had a wide, amphibious face that was drawing more attention because of the shade of pink she was wearing.

"I think I hate pink." She commented idly.

The woman, who introduced herself as Umbridge, gave a rambling speech about falling standards and -

"I think I should just shoot her now. You know, get it out of the way and all."

"If you could plead self defense in front of so many witnesses, I'd tell you to go for it."

"What's this?" Harry gasped dramatically. "Hermione supporting preemptive physical violence?"

"It's not preemptive-"

"You don't want to admit to premeditation." He interrupted her.

"It's a counter-strike." She frowned at him. "And I damn well know you don't want to claim premeditation. _I'm_ not the stupid one."

"You implying something?"

"Do you know what imply even means?"

"You're going to wake up one day with snakes in your bed." Harry promised. "Or scorpions."

..

"This isn't working, Hermione."

"It will, you just need to put effort into it. How did you pass classes all the way to fifth year if you suck so bad at the practical applications?"

Harry waved his gun. "Hello? Crazy with a gun? They'll do whatever I say."

"Probably not anymore." She frowned. "The paper has been tearing Dumbledore and you to shreds all summer."

"And yet I still have a gun."

"And they can throw you in prison."

"No prison can hold me!"

She gave him a deadpan look. "I've seen your muggle file, Harry. Fourteen times for possession, once for intent to sell. Not to mention all the other charges: racketeering, larceny, breaking and entering, arson, murder in the first, second, and third degree, reckless endangerment, grand theft auto, vandalism, and a whole slew more. How did you get brought up on charges of prostitution? I'm sure _that's_ a great story."

"I wasn't convicted on any of those. That's as good as declaring me innocent."

"That's as good as saying the prosecution was a group of dumb-asses." She retorted.

"Think they were wizards?" He asked with a smile. "Seriously, what are we going to do about this whole magic thing."

"We're going to cheat. You should be good at it by now."

..

"You want me to do what?"

"Lines, Mr. Potter."

"Eh, I'm not even sure why I got detention."

Umbridge scowled. "Mocking a teacher is disrespectful. I should give you more for the fact that you weren't even subtle about it. In fact, three more should account for that."

"Wasn't mocking you, swear! Croaking like a toad had absolutely nothing to do with you." She wasn't buying it for even a moment.

"Write."

"All right." He shrugged and pulled pen from his pocket to start.

"Mr. Potter, _what _are you doing?"

"Lines. Obviously."

"Another detention for your cheek. Use the quill provided."

"There might be a problem with that..." Harry trailed off.

"And what problem would that be?" She questioned, and Harry would later swear that her face inflated like a balloon.

"I've been forbidden to use quills." He grinned just a little. "There was an incident where... well, lets just call it an incident."

And there was just something in that smile with to many teeth... "Very well, use your _muggle_ implement for today. Tomorrow I shall come up with something _else."_

..

"So you had an idea on how to deal with snake-bitch?" Harry plopped into a chair next to her at the black-jack table. "And I thought you frowned on my gambling idea."

"Rather this than that plot to traffic drugs through here. Really, this is a school with eleven and twelve year-old's!"

He waved her off. "Cheating on magic? Snake-bitch? Focus, Hermione."

"Like you can talk about focus... bleedin' ADD." She spat. "And we're going to do the same thing you did to your gun."

"Don't know what you're talking about." He denied.

"I saw the runes on it in third year. I'm not blind."

"I didn't do it." And she wouldn't ever be able to prove he did. Mostly because there was no proof he even knew a single thing about runes at all. He never took the class, was never in the library without her, and as far as she knew, went back to comfortable criminal life when school let out. Well, all that and he really _didn't _do it. "And you look like a dumb-ass when you squinch your face like that."

"If you didn't, who did, and what else can they do?"

"I have a bad feeling..." He probably shouldn't have told her she looked like a dumb-ass.

..

"You want me to what?" There was a brief feeling of déjà vu.

"I want you to start a defense club." Hermione reiterrated.

"I thought you had a problem with just one of me? You want me to make more?"

"I only want your name in this and you as the apparent 'leader'."

Harry had a feeling that she wasn't seeing the very obvious problem with her so-called plan. That being that pretty much the whole magical world knew that he didn't use magic. At all.

"And how do we get past the fact that I – oh, I don't know – don't use magic, don't like magic, have great disdain for all things magic?"

"You'll be delegating all the practical to me. Really you'll just be a figurehead. Well, that and the motivation."

"Your just an ambitious, power-hungry whore." He said with a grin. "Power behind the throne and all that."

She sniffed. "Yes, well, I had to pick up something from hanging around you."

"Besides using words that make your mum and dad turn red."

Hermione scowled. "About that, avoid using the phrase 'cum guzzling thunder cunt' in front of my parents ever again. You have no idea how much explaining I had to do about you."

"Shouldn't have made me ride that fucking train then."

..

"Why do you smell like manure?" Hermione wrinkled her nose.

"Umbridge said something about me liking to shovel shit every time I opened my mouth, so I might as well accomplish something."

"And you actually did it?" She was incredulous.

"'Course," He gave her a malicious look. "but then, she didn't say _where_ to shovel it, did she?"

"You didn't!" Her look almost matched his. He nodded. "Her office?"

"Private quarters. They'll never get the smell out."

"I suppose that I shan't see you for the rest of the year?"

" I'm not really planning to show up at _all_ of them. After all," He gave a completely unbelievable pouting, innocent child's face. "When will I get my homework done_ 'fessor McGonagal_?"

"Please tell me she didn't buy that."

"No, but she doesn't like that bitch either. She'll help me out just to get back at her."

..

"No." The answer was firm and resolute. "It's not happening."

"But it's perfect." Hermione said. "The DA, Dumbledore's Army!"

"I refuse to be part of this if we're going to name it after old balls."

Hermione did a full body cringe and turned a touch green.

"Overactive imagination?" He asked with an amused grin and had a suddenly horrible idea. Revenge was sweet and cold. "Old hairy balls. Saggy. Wrinkly. You wanna lick him from his head to his toes."

He would have went on, but she rushed from the room with both hands clasped over her mouth. He laughed.

"She's so going to get me back for that."

..

"I said to fucking move you poor excuse for art." He snarled at the gargoyle to Dumbledore's office. "I'm going to find some high power explosives to turn you into rubble. I can do it you know."

The rock had the nerve to snort at him.

"Move the _fuck over_."

"Mr. Potter?" Harry swung around towards his name. "What are you doing out of bed?"

"I need to see the old man."

"Is that blood on your face?" She asked.

Harry huffed. "Which is why I need to see the fucking old man."

"Language." She chastised. "Licorices Wands."

He moved ahead of her, almost pushing her out of the way and moved to the top step as it rose to meet the office. He entered without knocking, slamming the door open. Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, looking up and ready to call him to enter.

"Arthur Weasley at the Ministry. Get someone over there. Now."

"What has-"

Harry cut him off. "I'm you don't want someone finding his body."

Dreams of killing someone weren't unusual. They weren't nightmares. They weren't upsetting or hurtful, and they didn't give him pain. The throbbing in his forehead around that damn scar and the blood that had slid, unheaded, down the side of his face were the only things that had brought him here. He couldn't give a damn less about the Weasleys, but he had to know if there was an accuracy to that dream. And if it were even semi-accurate, hows and whys were going to be very, very important.

As it turned out. His dream was more of a reality, and it quickly resulted in the formation of a small group and for them to argue around him like he didn't exist. He hated being ignored.

..

"... and this all will look legit?" Harry asked skeptically.

"Course. It's been filed through the goblins and some auror... uh..."

"Dawlish put the records into the ministry files." Fred finished for George.

"What about your end."

"We've rented the building and are expecting three shipments within two weeks."

"Are we tell Hermione about this?" George asked.

"No, so don't go hinting." He gave them a look. "Now, I need for you to get Florean's place next."

"Are you going after the whole alley?"

"Absolutely not." Harry snorted. "but that ice-cream shop is a perfect place, almost the opposite end of the alley from your shop, right?"

"Close enough." Fred shrugged.

..

Hermione dropped a heavy tome in Harry's lap, causing to half launch the only partially clean gun-barrel across the room.

"The fuck is wrong with you?"

"I've figured it out."

"Brilliant, but that didn't answer my damn question."

She ignored him and carried on with what she'd orignially been saying, as if Harry had inquired to what she'd discovered. "I know how we're going to cheat with magic."

"And that is?"

"We – wait, you are still loaded right? This won't work unless you have some decent cash."

"Course I still have money. I only use the magic money when I'm on this side."

"Galleons, Harry."

"Like I fucking care what it's called if I can't use it where it matters."

She huffed. "Any way, that person who did the runes on your gun? Well, we're going to convince them to tattoo them on your body."

He blinked at her. "Fuck that. I may be running with some gangs and shit, but I'm not getting ink. Not on your fucking life."

"How about yours?"

"Fuck it. Forget it. It ain't happening!" The guy who did it was off his damn nut anyhow.

..

"Special K?"

Harry stopped in the hallway at the little girl voice just behind him. Hermione just a few steps ahead doing the same. He looked over his shoulder slowly.

"Eh, Loonybird right?"

"Lovegood." She said with a smile.

"You'd think I'd remember that since its the same name as that porn-star who -"

"Harry!"

"I wanted to join your club." She was looking off somewhere over his shoulder.

"Club?"

"I think Ginerva said something about old balls?"

"Oh, yeah." He smiled and looked over at Hermione. "I think we ended up with defense something or other."

"Special K?" Hermione asked, once they'd finally gotten away.

"Her father is fuckin' barkin', and she ain't much better. It was either Special K or wizbanger, and I don't like the connotations of the second."

..

It had been some time since Harry had the urge to gape at something. In fact, last he could recall, it had been the sparkly twat way back in second year, but here he was again, though there was nothing sparkly about the situation.

"You want me to do what?" There was entirely to much shit going on that he had to keep asking that question. "Isn't that like... molestation... _you want me to let him pedophile my brain?_"

"Pedophile is a noun, not a verb, my boy."

"I'm a minor, it's gotta be pedo-something!"

"Now, Harry, this is the only way to keep Voldemort-"

"Snake-bitch? What's he got to do with anything?" 

"- out of your mind."

"Oh, but it's not like I'm _letting him in_... and can't you be brought up on charges for this? Accessory?"

Dumbledore sighed. It was going to be a long night.

..

"Mr. Potter, what are you looking to do as a future career?" Sprout asked. Honestly, she didn't want to know and had a fairly reasonable guess as to the answer.

"I've already got a career." Harry kicked his feet up on the desk and titled his chair on it's back legs. Oh yes, ruling the world... though, when he put it like that, it sounded really cliché.

"Your life choices thus far are not a career." She corrected, picked up a foot, and pushed it up hard enough to tip the chair on it's back.

"The fuck you do that for?"

"Do remember that I can outrun you, Mr. Potter."

"Er, right. No feet on the desk." He scoffed, followed by a mutter, "_fuckin' crazy bitch._"

"Did you say something, Harry?"

Uh oh, first names now. "Nope."

"Very good. Now, about your future..."

..

"Right, like there isn't enough fucked up shit in this damn forest! Let's just add baby giants! Fuckin' – don't go near the damn thing!" He grabbed Hermione by the back of her robe and drug her out of the thing's reach. "The hell is wrong with you? Damn it all! You see something dangerous and what, your first thought it 'I'm gonna touch it?'"

"I wasn't going to touch him!" She snarled.

"Well, if you wanted _it_ to touch _you_, I have to let you know that that's severely fucking disturbing, I can't be your boyfriend anymore, and can I watch?"

..

"Where were you?" Hermione grabbed him by the tie and pulled him forward.

"Well, I was about to go to the loo."

"For the tests, Harry Potter!" She shook him violently. "O.W.L.s? Ring a bell?"

"I got strait EE's."

She gave him a look. "You weren't even there!"

"You underestimate how much money I actually have and how easy people are to bribe here. Did I tell you I got out of detention after slipping McGonagal some catnip. Apparently Dumbledore banned it from the school."

"You – you can't cheat on your O.W.L.s!"

"Point of fact... I totally fuckin did."

"But those tests are the most important in your school career! Your school record will be a lie!"

Harry blinked at her. "Well, yeah. That's the point isn't it? If I wanted them to know how I did, then I would have been there... 'sides, when have I ever told anyone one the truth about anything?"

..

"The building that houses the mentally impaired is hours away -by train- and you want to take horses that half of us can't see?"

In answer, Luna just climbed up on one.

"What else do you think we can do? The floo is being monitored!" Hermione said, blindly feeling for a skeletal horse.

"Don't we _want_ a little fucking help here? I mean, is it just me or does it seem like a monumentally stupid idea for them," He pointed to Luna, Neville, Ginny, and Ron behind him. "To be our only backup."

"It's all the help I could get on short notice."

"My stalker, Hermione. You brought along my stalker. Both of them in fact. I'm going to need a bleedin' restraining order and something a bit more permanent than a gunshot wound."

"I heard tazers are fantastic."

"Fuck you."

..

"Harry Potter, General Mayhem. Oh, I think I'm starting to like this place." Harry pinned his badge to his robe.

"You would."

"Better than the first time around. Why does yours say rescue mission?"

"That's what we're doing here. Rescuing Sirius." There was a short pause. "Did you know some drugs cause memory loss?"

"Don't remember if I've heard that before." He gave her a cheeky look. "We should have brought the twins, at least they know how to shoot... and blow shit up. And set stuff on fire."

"Yes, I know, they're your favorite people. Can we get a move on?" She gestured impatiently.

"Lead the way then, if you're so eager." He gave a dramatic bow to the side.

"Eat shit, Harry."

..

"Alright, what plan do you have for this scenario?" Hermione whispered.

"I fuckin wanted to bring the twins, miss let's-bring-Harry's-stalkers."

"And I told _ you_ that -"

"The prophecy, Mr. Potter."

"Piss off, I'm having a fucking conversation over here. For some high-bred cock-juggling bitch, you sure are fucking rude."

Bella cackled.

"Bella!" Lucius hissed.

"Knows you well, doesn't he, Lucius!"

"Silence. This is not the time."

"Think of anything?" Hermione said under the ensuing argument between Malfoy and Lestrange.

Harry sighed.

"Well?"

"Get ready to run?" He suggested.

"What?"

Harry pulled his gun and shot one of the cloaked men in the face sending the body flying against the shelves.

"Run!" He called over his shoulder, not even pausing. Maybe he would get lucky and one of his stalkers would get shot.

..

"I have to wonder." Sirius said, flinging away another spell.

"Yeah?" Harry ducked and shot at a distant figure, letting Sirius handle the one in front of them.

"How in the hell do you get into so much trouble."

"I blame this one on you, snake-bitch, and Hermione."

"And how-" He reflected a spell, "do you figure that?"

" Well," Harry shot a death-eater in the foot. "Snake-bitch sent the vision o_f you_, doing some very... interesting stuff-"

"Bitches?"

" I wouldn't have come here to watch you get your rocks off, and I'm beyond disturbed you would consider that an option." He gave a short pause. "I have no plan to _keep it in the family_, you sicko."

Sirius' next comment was cut short as Bellatrix's curse flung him backwards into the veil.

"Death by curtains... I may not know my father, but I'm sure that he'll use this as ammunition. Eternity really is a long time."

..

"Snake-bitch, still no face?" Harry asked in greeting.

"Still can't use magic?" Voldemort flicked a crucio at him.

"Magic is for pussies." He said with a smile, pulling out a gun that Voldemort certainly didn't recognize, but knew he wouldn't like. "It's semi-automatic." With a clip that let it hold almost triple the ammo.

Harry opened with a spray of bullets, grazing Bellatrix's face while Voldemort disappeared. Harry turned and opened on as much of the hall as he could. It was, unfortunately at that moment that Dumbledore appeared, who quickly threw himself to the floor to avoid the bullets.

"I'd apologize about that if I actually felt bad." He muttered. "Alright? Break a hip?"

"I'm fine, Harry."

"Too bad." He looked around. "You see where snake-bitch went?"

Something struck him from behind, sending him sprawling on the floor.

"Harry Potter." It was a hiss.

Harry looked up at Dumbledore who'd come to stand over him.

"He's in my head... He's in my fucking head!" He made a heaving motion. "Get it out! Get it out! Oh god this is so fucking nasty!"

..

"Seriously?"

"I'm sorry to place this burden on you, my boy." 

"Not that, this fucking 'power of love' bullshit. Because I can tell you right now, that there isn't anyway on earth, heaven, or hell that I'd fuck snake-bitch. Or even that that psycho would look at anything that didn't have scales or a forked tongue. God, I'm going to have nightmares for a fucking month about this!"

"I wasn't suggesting that you and Voldemort..." Dumbledore made a vague motion instead of saying any form of the word. "More that your ability to love people is that power."

"Have you been paying attention at all these last years? Love people? I'd rather cover them in gasoline and hand them a match! Fucking _love people_?" The last was muttered with an incredulous air.

"Surely you must see it? Like when you befriended Hermione, the Weasley twins, and several others?"

"Uh... that's not love. That's a mutually beneficial business arrangement." He skirted around saying that they launder money, run the casino, and smuggle weaponry, along with a few other side jobs.

"Perhaps, in time, you will come to realize what I have seen."

"Not likely." He said as he left the office.

..

"Harry, how _did_ you get Voldemort out of your head?"

"Do we _have_ to talk about this now? I'm eating damn it!"

"Well, how do I know there's not still pieces in there?"

Harry shoved his plate away. "You're a fucking bitch, I fucking hate you, and there aren't any fucking bits still stuck in there.

"But how do you _know_?"

"Because I'm pretty damn sure that I'd notice if I suddenly had a fetish for scales and snakes."

"Are you sure."

"You're a twisted little whore." He hissed at her. "And I hate you."

Hermione laughed as he left the great hall.

..

"Mother fucker! What the fuck was that for?" He clasped his thigh, trying to stem the bleeding from the gunshot wound he'd just received.

"You can't escape if you can't walk." Hermione told him, grabbing one arm and tugging him behind her.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You are riding the train home, Harry. I'm going to make sure of it."

"I don't understand your fascination with the bloody train ride! And god-damn-it, you didn't have to fucking shoot me you carpet-munching-cum-dump! It fucking hurts to get shot! And quit dragging me! Fuck!" He was pulled down the stairs, and almost fell flat on his face. "And I'll show you fucking escape!"

He flipped her skirt, giving everyone in the area a good view. She shrieked and let him go, pulling the ends of the material tightly around her legs, and giving Harry the perfect opportunity to vanish.

Harry appeared on the street somewhere in downtown London, still clutching his leg. He was going to have to think up some story for the boys, because there wasn't anyway he was telling them that he got jumped by some girl.

"Crazy bitch." He muttered and hobbled off.

..

A/N:

Sorry! For those who care, I broke my laptop keyboard – as in, it decides what buttons it likes, broke – and when it got fixed... well, I have to say I had things I'd rather do than write. :D I think that makes me a bad author. So no, this story is not abandoned, nor will it be. I will finish it. Promise. **Thanks for the reviews!**

A couple reviewers questioned a few things that I feel I should clear up.

First, Harry and Cederic with the cup. For all that Harry is a complete thug, I still like to think of him as having a bit of honor. (A tiny, tiny bit) So, when Cederic shows up at the end, and was an actual voluntary contestant, Harry decides to offer him to take it with him. Despite this story being no where near canon, I didn't see this happening another way.

Second, Harry shooting the statue. Any one who knows how a gun fight works (or in this case, magic) would know that you don't want to be pinned down, in the open, with no chance of cover. He shot the statue hoping to break it enough that he could get some cover before the fight started.

Third, Harry shooting a Death Eater instead of Voldemort. Now, this one seems like a bit of idiocy on the front, but picture this. Your stuck in front of a group of psychopaths who have no problem torturing/killing. Aiming for the leader seems like a good idea, but he didn't exactly stay dead the last time, and his followers have a history (Bellatrix, though she isn't there) of being devoted to the cause (not to mention numbers and no help for Harry). They might just be a little pissed off if Voldemort were to 'die' again. On the other hand, if you shoot a grunt no one cares about, not only does the violent response drop down just a bit, but you've already reduced the number of enemies.

And there we go. Harry shall not succumb to the stupidity that comes with magic. It would make for a far less funny story.


End file.
